This Way
by MandyQ
Summary: Years after the Dark Lord has fallen...Can Lucius and Narcissa see their way through the lies and the infidelity to find happiness again? It wasn't supposed to be this way. COMPLETE. Rated for language and themes. Please R&R. TDH Compliant. PS Spoliers.
1. Prologue: April 1985

**DISCLAIMER**: I own nothing in this story. Okay, so I own a few things herein, but I can lay no claim to any of them as they all exist in the Universe owned by JK Rowling, Warner, Scholastic, and other people who are not me. I mean no infringement and I am making no money.

A/N: Please don't hate me for this. Please.

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**April 12, 1985**

"Of all the two bit gin joints in all the world, you had to walk in to mine." Lucius Malfoy looked up from the glass he had been staring into for the past hour and gasped. It couldn't be… it just couldn't be. And yet he'd know that voice anywhere.

"Di?" he whispered harshly, half afraid to turn around and confirm with his eyes what his ears already told him.

"Mmmm," the woman's voice sounded in his ear, her face so close that he felt her hot breath against his neck. Lucius swallowed hard and turned to look. It was her alright.

Aphrodite Killingsworth had been his closest associate at Hogwarts. She was a year ahead of him in school; a raven-haired beauty with full lips and an ample bosom and all of the knowledge of the world that Lucius had cared to know at the time. He had lost his virginity to her in the potions classroom during his third year and the two had made a habit of similar activities in the years that followed.

She had been his Marquise de Merteuil to his Visconte de Valmont. They had dared each other into conquests and wagered their own bodies against the skill of the other. "_An hour of my complete submission_", "_You'll let me blindfold you_", "_In the stands during the match against Hufflepuff_". They had bet and won and lost and enjoyed themselves immensely; pleasing each other by every possible means and enjoying the tales of the other's affairs as well.

They were two peas from the same pod. Lucius had thought them perfect together. They were exactly the same and he had pictured a future of similar wicked joy. He had been in love with her; he was sure of it. At least, he had been as sure as any sixteen-year-old could be of such things. The day of the leaving feast on the eve of her graduation he had proposed marriage to her. They were good together, he had explained, and they could conquer the world if she agreed to join forces with him permanently.

And she had laughed in his face. "_Which one of us would betray the other first, Lucius?_" she had asked him. Perhaps it was the truth. But the scene played out like one from the same French Romance they had so sinfully enjoyed living out prior. He had hated her from that moment forward and they had not spoken since. And now, on what Lucius had already deemed one of the worst days of his life; the universe had chosen to add insult to injury by making her appear in his presence.

Aphrodite smiled at him wickedly. "What the hell, Malfoy?" she asked him, tugging on his waistcoat to pull him in to a dark corner underneath the stairs. "Long time no see."

"Miss Killingsworth," he addressed her as coolly as he could. "Or is it Mrs. Now?"

"Oh no," she snickered. "I told you a dozen years ago that I'd never marry. It's too much fun to be free," she declared. "Although," she began again, her index finger coming to rest on his left hand, "I see that someone has lay her claim upon you." She fingered his wedding band in a way that made Lucius certain that she was coming on to him. "Anyone I know?" she asked. Lucius shrugged.

"Narcissa Black," he declared flatly. Narcissa was the reason he was in this blasted place tonight. He'd been hearing rumors about her. She would say that she was spending an afternoon shopping in London and yet come home with no packages and he would hear tell days later that she'd been seen at tea in Nice. Flowers had begun to appear at the manor that he knew she'd never had picked out for herself and that no one who'd ever bothered to really know her would have chosen to send; and yet she displayed them happily on her dressing table and smiled whenever she saw them. He was sure that his darling wife had taken a lover.

Of course, it's not as though he blamed her. He had been inattentive to her to say the least for the better part of the past three years. His mind had been occupied by the need to regain the status he had lost when under suspicion as a Death Eater. The downfall of the Dark Lord had killed something in him, and he knew it. The passion between himself and his wife hadn't waned immediately, but he had slowly sunk into a place of worry and of self loathing that had left him without any passion whatsoever. He had been an absentee husband and a barely dutiful father for years now and it really came as no surprise to him that she had sought comfort elsewhere; but that was not to say that it didn't hurt like hell.

Tonight she had not bothered to come home for dinner. And so he had come to the seediest and dirtiest and most un-Narcissa place he could think of: the Flaming Sword in Knockturn Alley. Damn that woman; just the thought of her made him ill at the moment.

"Little Cissy's asleep in the library?" Aphrodite said back to him. "You married that girl?" Lucius nodded.

"I did," he confirmed, taking another swig of the rotgut brown liquid from the glass in his hand.

"That scrawny little blonde-headed thing with the flat chest and the personality of a really boring chair?" she asked by way of clarification. Lucius only nodded and took another drink. "Merlin's knickers, Lucius. She couldn't even open her mouth but to say 'please' or 'thank you'," she accused. "That must be dreadful fun in the bedroom." Aphrodite snickered and took a sip from her own glass. She shook her head when Lucius had not bothered to respond to that and posed another question. "So why is it that you're here tonight instead of at home making her moan 'please Lucius,' 'thank you Lucius'?" she asked, her voice becoming fully orgasmic as she mocked the idea of Narcissa in bed. Lucius put his free hand to her throat and slammed her against the wall next to them.

He found it odd that he was ready to defend Narcissa even as he wanted to hate her forever. He looked at his old lover and snarled. "Now that's really none of your affair, now is it?" he growled in her ear, his hand moving from her neck down the front of her blouse.

"Appropriate choice of words, Malfoy," she growled back at him, her face leaning in to nip at his earlobe. She traced the length of his neck with her tongue and then leaned her head back to look him in the eye.

"Fuck you, Killingsworth," he spat, still pressing her into the wall. Lucius grabbed her breast roughly, pushing himself into her and dropping his glass so that he could better keep hold of her. Not that she was resisting him.

"Gladly," she sneered at him before lunging forward and claiming his lips with her own.

The kiss was angry, bitter, harsh, and dirty. Lucius did not even pause when he began to taste blood from her lips. He tore open the front of her blouse, exposing her breast, and roughly pinched and twisted her nipples; one and then the other- the way he remembered she enjoyed it. His other hand hitched her skirt above her waist and he was thrilled to discover that she was wearing nothing beneath it.

He felt her fingers fumbling with his belt and his trousers as he slid his fingers into her. She freed his angry and throbbing cock from its cloth coverings and wrapped one leg around his waist, covering him with her skirt and allowing him access to what they both knew he wanted. Lucius didn't think twice before moving his hand back to her breast and thrusting himself inside her. It had been more than a year since he'd felt a woman beneath him and more than a dozen since he'd been rough with one. Narcissa was delicate as a flower and had to be treated with care and respect. But Di was his equal at such things; she was as wanton and callous and fevered as he was and he took full advantage of that fact as he took her there against the wall in the shadows of this filthy place.

He braced himself against the wall and he fucked her. He fucked her like he had forgotten he even knew how to. This was how it had been so many years ago; before he had fallen so stupidly in love with Narcissa Black and had to censor his sex drive to be gentle and good to his precious little wife. He hated Narcissa at that moment. He hated that she was everything beautiful and soft and sweet and lovely and he hated that he had soiled her with his seed and his shortcomings. And he hated himself more for dragging that perfect lady into his world of madness and of filth. This was what he was meant for; not the pretty ballrooms and genteel gardens of polite society. Lucius hated everything about himself at that moment. He deserved nothing better but this hasty and foul encounter with this wanton slut under the stairs.

He could feel his climax coming and he let go of his lover's lips to bury his face in her neck. He did not even try and control the moans and shudders of his orgasm, nor would she have wanted him to. He could hear her laughing loudly as he came hard inside of her. She was still breathing hard when he looked back up at her. Her eyes were wild and she was biting her lip, a self-satisfied sneer on her face. "You're still a horny bastard, Lucius Malfoy," she chuckled at him. Lucius scowled at her as he pulled his trousers back to their rightful place and fastened his belt.

"And you're still a slut," he stated flatly, smoothing his hair.

"Takes one to know one," she accused, pulling out her wand to repair the damage he'd done to the front of her blouse. "I must guess that this was not your first act of infidelity," she added. Lucius looked back at her with venom in his gaze.

It had been his first act of infidelity. He had never so much as looked at another woman since he'd set his sights on Narcissa in his seventh year of school. And he would never have even entertained the notion of betraying her had he not been convinced that she had done so first. He still loved Narcissa with all of his heart, he knew that as sure as he knew the sky was blue and that the grass was green. And as much as he hated her for taking a lover, he would forgive her tomorrow if she only asked him to. But he knew in that instant that he would never forgive himself for what he had just done. Both of their infidelities were his fault as far as he was concerned. Lucius took a deep breath and realized suddenly just how much he hated himself for what he had just done. And he hated Aphrodite doubly for being there for him to act out on. He turned his back to her.

"Go to hell, Aphrodite," he spat, walking away without once looking back.

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So the thumb drive that has "What One Must" on it is being used by my fiance to move files from one machine to another. And I'll have it back in a few minutes, but I thought I'd get the prologue for the next piece out there and drumming up interest while I wait to write the next chapter of the other story.

Please don't hate me. Trust me... you know where my loyalties are ship-wise. I promise an ending that will not suck. In fact, I promise all manner of fun. I've always written around the smut, and in case you can't tell- this one gets the smut left in it. Let me know if I've written the smut okay, and let me know how mad at me you are for the scene to begin with... and remember that there's a lot more to this story- coming soon!

Now back to "What One Must", as I see the thumb drive walking toward me. :)

-MQ


	2. Reflect Emotion

ADDITION TO DISCLAIMER: The chapter titles are from English language translations of "Ich bin von Kopf bis fuss auf lieben eingestelt" as recorded by Marlene Dietrich for the film "Blue Angel". I believe the song to be in the public domain- but it's worth it to mention the reference just the same.

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**September 1, 1991**

Narcissa Malfoy stood on the train platform and tried her best to keep her tears in check and her dignity intact. She stared ahead blankly at the colorful cars before her and waved absently at her son, who had peeked his head out of the window at her. Her only son was going away to Hogwarts, for his first year of formal education, and she wondered silently what she was to do with herself in his absence.

As the train whistle blew, she looked beside her to where her husband was standing. The ever stalwart Lucius had just nodded his head to acknowledge his son's parting wave and then glowered the boy back into his seat. Narcissa wondered silently if he was feeling as bereft as she was as the train began to slowly pull away from the platform. She tentatively reached out her hand and placed it on his arm.

They had been estranged for so long that she could not clearly remember the last time she had touched him, but today seemed like an appropriate time to offer him empathy, if nothing else. Although it appeared as though he would take not even that from her. He looked down at her with what she knew to be tears in his eyes, but with an expression behind them that warned her to remove her hand presently lest he remove it for her. Narcissa sighed heavily and folded her hands at her waist as she heard a 'pop' signaling that her husband had Disapparated.

She waited on the platform until she could no longer see the train at all before Apparating herself home. When she reached the Apparition point on the library balcony of her home in Wiltshire, she was most surprised to see her husband in the library. She entertained the notion of Apparating herself right out of there to the gatehouse and walking the remaining distance just to avoid Lucius, but she knew somehow that he was aware of her presence and she refused to be seen avoiding him. Narcissa Malfoy was a lot of things, but she was no coward.

She strode slowly but purposefully into the library and removed her hat and her gloves, leaving them draped over the back of a chair near to where Lucius was standing. Surely the house-elves would pick them up and put them away. Narcissa saw that Lucius had started in on the brandy already and decided that she too would like a drink. It wasn't at all like her to drink at eleven in the morning, but this day she was more than a little willing to make an exception.

"Brandy before noon, Mrs. Malfoy?" her husband addressed her snidely. "Tsk tsk, I had thought you above such indulgences." She looked him in the eye, her face as deadpan as she could make it.

"I thought myself above a great many things, Lucius," she countered, seating herself. "That does not mean that I won't do as I please." Narcissa took a pronounced drink from the glass she'd poured for herself and looked at him again. "And it's a bit early for you as well, is it not?" she posed. Narcissa could tell that he had been crying, and in earnest from the look of things, but this was not something she was about to bring up to him. The fact that she was not crying herself at this minute was no small miracle and the truth was that he could easily _make_ her cry if he so chose. Best to keep the verbal sparring on this level for the time being.

"It is a bit early for brandy at that," Lucius confirmed for her. Narcissa tried to think back to the last time he had openly agreed with her about something and couldn't. "But today is a special occasion," he added.

"That it is," Narcissa agreed with him. Two similar opinions in a row…. That was highly irregular. "The little dragon has left the nest," she posited, raising her glass toward her husband and then taking another less-than-ladylike swig.

"Yes, it appears he has," Lucius said to her, turning to lean his back against the mantle piece and looking down at her as she reclined in the wingback chair. "Which leaves us in a bit of a predicament, does it not?" Narcissa nodded her head once.

She had feared that this was coming. She knew that for the past seven years almost that each of them had defined their lives by Draco and nothing else. Although they still shared a bed, they hardly saw each other and the almost never spoke. Narcissa had known that this conversation would have to happen sometime; in fact, she had almost looked forward to it, but she hadn't expected this to come so closely on the heels of their son's departure.

"We needn't come to any decision right away," she posited. "Perhaps we should take a few days to think over the possibilities?" Lucius regarded her with a look she could not place. His face was screwed into a half-frown and his eyes were showing something she did not recognize.

"Perhaps that would be for the best. I do not see any need to rush things… either way," he finished his statement with a punctuation that Narcissa couldn't put her finger on. 'Either way' had sounded somehow as though he were considering what she was… like perhaps he was willing to entertain the idea that they could peacefully cohabitate even in Draco's absence. Lucius looked at her with an even more pronounced frown and then quickly turned from her to face the mantle. He hung his head and Narcissa could tell by the swift rise and fall of his back that he was crying again.

She wanted so badly to go to him, to comfort him, to hold him and to remind him that she loved him more than anything. But he would never have stood it. He'd have killed her where she stood for acknowledging his weakness like that.

It hadn't always been like this. The morning of their wedding he had knelt before her in the third floor living room and professed his love and his desire to protect her from anything that could hurt her. And he had done so through tears as passionate as the ones she knew he was shedding now. But there was no use to remind him of such things. She merely sat forward in the chair and sighed.

"Lucius?" she addressed him. He shook his head but did not turn to face her.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he growled. Narcissa felt her jaw clench at his declaration. She knew that as well as he did.

When Draco was a baby they'd had all the hopes in the world for him, and for themselves. The Dark Lord would certainly triumph and Lucius Malfoy would be Minister for Magic before his only son was to go to Hogwarts. But that had not come to pass. The Dark Lord had fallen at the hands of a babe when Draco was sixteen months old and part of Lucius had died along with him.

"I know," Narcissa commiserated, "I remember what it was supposed to be like," she added. It was tragic; all of the dreams they had lost. Perhaps Lucius could take some comfort in the fact that he wasn't the only one feeling the loss. She sighed and shook her head. "What happened to us, Lucius?" she asked, almost wistfully.

It was a valid enough question. Narcissa was never sure what it was that had soured her once blissful and passionate relationship with her husband. But she knew at this moment that she had best take the chance that lay before her now to learn or else perhaps be left to wonder forever what had gone wrong. This was the most unguarded she had seen him in quite some time, and she wondered just how much he might be willing to share. Lucius surprised her greatly when he answered her immediately.

"Nothing," Lucius said plainly. "When the Dark Lord fell we were left with nothing," he added, shrugging his shoulders and turning around to face her again. "And eventually we were so consumed by nothing that there was nothing left for us."

"Do you think we'll ever get it back?" she asked him with equal plainness to her tone. Narcissa was quite proud of herself for her ability to remain seemingly unaffected through this conversation and she poured herself another snort of brandy from the nearby decanter in hopes of keeping it up. "The way we were, I mean," she clarified before indulging in another drink. Lucius shook his head.

"No," he admitted. His face said to her that he was saddened by this fact as plainly as his words said that it was so. "Perhaps once there was a chance," he allowed. "But we let that pass. Now, especially now- with Draco gone, now I fear that there is no chance at all. There have been too many years and too many betrayals." Narcissa nodded as she brought her glass from her lips.

"How many, Lucius?" she asked him. It was a question she had been dying to ask a million times over.

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Malfoy?" he said back to her. Narcissa took up the decanter and leaned forward to fill his glass, which he gladly accepted before leaning back against the mantle again.

"You heard me, Lucius," she said to him. "If it really is over, as you say it is- and I am not altogether disinclined to believe you; what's the harm in telling me? How many lovers have you taken since this 'nothing' has ruled our lives?"

"Lovers?" he asked, as though he had no idea what she was talking about.

"You know very well what I'm asking you, Lucius. And don't think that I can't handle it. And don't act surprised that I've brought it up." She looked him squarely in the eye. "How many women have you made love to since you and I have been married?" she asked, again very proud of just how unaffected her voice was sounding.

"I would hardly use 'making love' as…"

"And don't play semantics with me, either," she interrupted him. "Just be honest. How many other women have you had… relations with… since you've been married to me?" Narcissa leaned back against the seatback again and waited while he frowned at her. Perhaps she was going to get an answer.

"I don't know," he said to her after a pause. "Eight?" he posited. "Twelve?" Lucius shrugged again and sipped his brandy. "It's not as though I've been keeping a tally."

"Fair enough," she shrugged, satisfied enough that he'd been willing to share some detail of his life over the past seven years with her. And even though that was not exactly what she wanted to hear, she was glad in a way that he'd given her an answer instead of a clever dodge.

"Now, as long as we're being honest, Mrs. Malfoy," he addressed to her. "I will ask you the same question. Has it been only one lover all these many years, or have there been several?" Narcissa sighed. The answer to that question was knowledge she had guarded more closely than any secret she'd ever kept from anyone. She looked her husband squarely in the eye and took a deep breath before speaking.

"There hasn't been anyone, Lucius," she told him. The look on his face was the most awful thing that Narcissa could have imagined seeing at that moment. He looked at her with a combination of shock and disbelief as though she had just run him through with a broadsword. And yet she could tell from his eyes that he knew she was telling the truth.

"Oh heavens, Cissa…" He managed to get out, his voice breathy and tentative like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He turned slowly to face the mantle again. Suddenly Narcissa felt guiltier at this moment than she reckoned she would have had she actually been unfaithful. In not having betrayed him, it seemed as though he felt that much more betrayed. "I never would have if…"

"I know," she assured him, unwilling to let him go on with that any longer. "You've too much honor in you, and too much stubbornness," she posed, "to have been the first to betray me." She shook her head; may as well come clean now. "So I set to making you think I was being wooed. I'd say I was spending the day in London and be sure to be spotted in France or in Portugal. And I'd send myself stupid and tacky bunches of clichéd flowers that we both knew I didn't like." She cast her eyes down in to her glass. The catharsis felt good, but she wasn't sure how much of this he was going to be willing to take from her. "It was quite by design that you figured me to have taken a lover," she finished. Narcissa did not have to wait for long to get a response from him to that last bit.

"You conniving, manipulative little…" he began to work himself in to a rage. Narcissa stood to face him as he whipped around to look at her.

"Lucius," she began coolly. "Perhaps you had ought to take a moment to consider, before you fly off the handle and beat me to the bloody pulp you would so desperately like to at the moment, that I may have been punished adequately enough for my devious actions by my husband's infidelity." She nodded her head once and stepped away from him. She seriously doubted that he would have hit her. He had never raised hand nor wand to her in anger in the past, but this argument was different and she knew it. His emotions were more charged at this moment than she could ever remember them having been.

Apparently her words had been enough to give him pause, as he stood stock still and looked at her like she was some kind of a stranger as she set her glass on the little table with the decanter. "I'm not feeling altogether well," she shared with him; a fully convenient, yet still wholly true statement. "I am going to lie down." And with that she turned and left the room slowly, giving Lucius ample time to call after her if he had wanted to.

He did no such thing.

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I hope that the even forty of you who have read the prologue and hate me for it have decided to stay with me on this one, and have now read this chapter and perhaps hate me a little less…? Maybe you hate me more. Flame me if you must, but let me know what you're thinking :) More coming soon- as there are 4 chapters written already.

-MQ


	3. How Many Times I Blunder

Narcissa slipped from her bed and was pleased at herself for how long she'd managed to sleep. Her slumber had been irregular at best, and she likely needed the rest. She'd lay down after that heartbreaking conversation with Lucius and had drifted off sometime just after noon. It was four thirty now; teatime. And she needed to eat something. She'd learned a long time ago to eat something at every meal whether she was hungry or not lest she make herself very ill. Lucius got angry with her when she was ill, and so she had learned to keep herself appearing well at all times.

She shuffled across the rug to the closet she still shared with her husband; half-expecting his things to have been removed while she slept. To her surprise, nothing on Lucius' side of the giant closet cum dressing room had been obviously disturbed. But a second glance gave her a bit of pause; his smoking jacket and slippers were not where they belonged. He was home?

Lucius was rarely in the house during daylight hours these days. He spent his days in London, making deals and playing politics in ways that Narcissa hadn't so much as attempted to understand- not that Lucius would have told her had she asked him. But this afternoon it appeared that he had not gone to the Ministry, but was instead somewhere in the house. It didn't concern her much; the idea that her husband was home. The manor was large and the number of rooms vast. Although they only regularly used a few of them, she was sure that she would not encounter him this afternoon lest she seek him out. And she would be doing nothing of the sort.

Narcissa slipped off her thin cotton nightgown and dressed herself in a navy blue crepe house dress with pewter taffeta trim and tiny cut-glass buttons on the bodice and the sleeves. She ran a comb through her hair and then tied it back into a bun using her wand; a trick she'd learned as a child when she was home from school with her sisters who were apt to steal her wand from her as a joke. It kept her wand on her when she had no pockets and her hair from getting into her face. She slid her silver satin slippers onto her feet and left the closet.

She moved slowly through the bedroom and ensuite bath into the adjacent living room. Much to her unsettling surprise, Lucius stood at the windows on the far side of the room. He was looking out at the gardens as though he were trying to puzzle something out from the statuary. Narcissa thought it her best course of action to ignore him and so she seated herself in her usual place on the end of the green sofa next to the tea cart.

The elves brought her tea to her in the same manner every day. There were sandwiches and scones, jam and custard tarts, cakes, chocolates, and slices of seasonal fruit. She reached first for the pot of tea and found herself struggling to lift and pour the full vessel because her hands seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. Narcissa, never one to give in to her nerves, forced the tea from the pot into her glass. Normally she took milk and sugar in her tea, but this afternoon she was not wholly convinced that she could properly deploy the cream pitcher or the sugar tongs without making some sort of a fool of herself. It wasn't as though Lucius was watching her, but she was still somehow convinced that he was paying attention to what she was doing; waiting to pounce on any blunder she made.

Narcissa fought the tremor in her hands as she brought the teacup to her lips for a sip. She jumped a little as the over-heated liquid scalded her tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and reached for a grape to cool the burn. She looked across the room at Lucius' stern and unmoving visage. He turned to her slowly, as though he could feel her eyes upon him. Narcissa tilted her head toward him and gestured to the tray of goodies before her. "Tea, Lucius?" she offered him. Lucius shook his head.

"Why, Narcissa?" he asked, taking a step toward her. She shook her head and frowned at him.

"Because it's tea time?" she answered tentatively. She had no idea why he would ask her such a thing. Lucius walked toward her and seated himself on a chair across from her.

"Not the tea," he groaned. "You know what I'm talking about."

"No, Lucius," she answered him, popping another grape in to her mouth so as to keep her shaking hands occupied. "I am sure I don't."

"Why did you wish for me to think that you were being unfaithful?" he asked. Oh; that why. Narcissa inhaled sharply and looked down at her hands. She supposed she did owe him an explanation. But she wasn't entirely convinced that she could get through the full story without her nerves or her tear ducts taking over her ability to speak clearly.

"Because I knew that you'd have one of two reactions to it," she explained. Her voice was soft, yet measured. She made certain to be very deliberate in sharing this with him and tried to rehearse each phrase in her head before it came out so as to better prepare herself for hearing it. "You would either come at me in some mad and jealous rage threatening all manner of violence against anyone who dared come near me, and then believe me-as you do now- when I told you that there had been no one. And then I would know that there was some feeling left in you for me." She sighed heavily and then considered. "Or; the other possibility…you would feel free," she added.

"Free, Mrs. Malfoy?" he inquired. She hated it when he called her 'Mrs. Malfoy' in that tone of voice. It made her shudder how cold his voice could be sometimes.

"You were so unhappy, Lucius," she exhorted. "And I had done everything that I could possibly think of to make you happy, but nothing I could do was helping." Narcissa took a very deep breath and bit her lip before looking back at him. She could feel a tear beginning to fight its way to the surface but she defiantly shook it off and continued. "I love you, Lucius," she told him. "And I wanted you to feel that you could pursue happiness wherever it led you. I thought that perhaps some other woman could succeed where I'd failed; make you happy, give you your smile back. I only wanted for you to be happy, Lucius." Narcissa picked up her cup of tea and took a sip again, more to allow herself a moment to think than out of any actual desire for tea. "I offered once to leave you be," she reminded him. "When Draco was a baby and it was clear that I could give you no more sons, do you remember?"

"I do," Lucius answered briefly with a single nod but otherwise no change in expression.

"I would have done so again, had it ever appeared prudent. I'd have left you to be in love if you had seemed to want rid of me. It would probably have killed me eventually," she shared with him. "But, I would have done it. Actually, I had this beautiful fantasy of dying; knowing that I was leaving you to be happy again. It was like something out of a book. I suppose it was silly of me; foolish really, but it was the last thing I could think of that might make things better for you." She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "That was all, Lucius," she assured him. "I never meant any harm from it."

Lucius sighed heavily and shrugged his shoulders, the look on his face stern and unreadable. He stood slowly from the chair and walked toward the door that led into the hallway. "I promised Draco a letter," he said to her, as though he needed any excuse to leave the room.

"Alright," she whispered, nodding her head. She hadn't any will to keep him here longer than he wished to stay.

"You are a foolish woman, Mrs. Malfoy," he said to her as his hand hit the doorknob.

"I am quite aware of that," she agreed under her breath as he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

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This chapter posted super-quick as FFDN keeps NOT listing this story and I do not know why. I will see what happens now. No hard feelings if you don't review EVERY chapter evil grin

-MQ


	4. Never Wanted

Yesterday had been such a taxing and unbearable day that Narcissa had almost been surprised that she woke this morning. She had chosen to take her breakfast in the conservatory; a light-filled green and white tiled glass room on the southeastern corner of the ground floor. She hadn't managed to eat much, as the pianoforte had distracted her attention for most of the morning.

The instrument, and in fact the entire conservatory, had been a gift to her from Lucius on their eighth wedding anniversary. Eight vases of each of eight varieties of flowers had led her into the eight by eight meter room which Lucius had managed to have built without her having learned of it, and within it, the eighty eight keys of the grand piano had shone in the moonlight.

She'd had lessons as a child, but when she was given the piano she had been more than a decade out of practice. Once a young witch or wizard is allowed a wand, often they lose fascination with the things they had so tirelessly mastered by hand. Narcissa and her piano playing had been no exception to this. But sometime in the years of Lucius' waning attentions toward her, she had again found skill at the keys. And she had remembered the joys of waltzes and mazurkas, of minuets and of tangos that she and Lucius had shared in the early years of their romance; learning each one of them by ear, by memory, and by heart so that she could recall moments of joy into her day with a simple movement of her fingers over ivory and jet.

She sat now with her delicate china teacup perched alongside of her on the piano bench and had managed to lose herself in a favorite dissonant movement. "Beethoven?" Narcissa jumped when she heard Lucius' voice call to her. She turned toward the sound of his voice and saw him leaning casually against the doorframe.

"You startled me," she said to him. Narcissa picked up her cup of coffee and took a sip. "And yes, it was Beethoven." She replaced her cup in its saucer and turned back to the piano, picking up the melody where she had left it. She had no idea what Lucius had come there for, but she was not about to engage him in some conversation that she'd not likely enjoy.

She was sure that she heard the clatter of his shoes against the tiles and she steeled herself for another interruption. Lucius crossed the floor to the side of the piano and leaned against the instrument. He did not speak again, nor did he seem to be enjoying the music. He just stood still and watched her, as though he were waiting for her to finish what she was dong. It wasn't like him to be patient, and Narcissa began to wonder if what he was really doing was trying to unsettle her.

And then she wondered when she began ascribing such sinister motivations to her husband. And then she hated herself and her life and the fact that it had ever come to that. She stopped thinking about Lucius and played on until the piece was over. When she lifted her foot from the pedal, ceasing to sustain the final note of the movement, she reached again for her coffee cup.

"It's not gotten cold?" Lucius asked her of the deep brown liquid in the spindly china cup.

"I've charmed the cup to keep it," she answered him. "The pot as well," she added, indicating a tray on a nearby table on which sat the silver coffee service. "Help yourself if you'd like."

"Thank you," he said to her. Strange of him to offer her his thanks, but Narcissa was glad enough that he was being civil to her not to mention just how odd that was. "But I won't be staying," he added. There was the Lucius she knew.

"Suit yourself," she shrugged, taking another sip from her coffee cup before setting it back on the saucer and beginning to play another piece.

"Narcissa," Lucius interrupted her playing, picking up her cup and saucer and moving them to the music stand so that he could sit next to her on the piano bench. Her hands left the piano keys as she scooted herself as far from him as she could without falling off of the bench. How very strange of him to sit next to her. They rarely even sat on the same sofa without Draco between them anymore, and she found his sudden closeness had put her quite on edge.

"Yes Lucius?" she said back to him, her face surely showing how odd she felt this to be.

"I want you to answer something for me," he informed her. She blinked her eyes and took in a deep breath. She had no idea what it was that he might want to know. Narcissa began to brace herself for something brutal to come out of his mouth.

"Alright," she allowed, squaring her jaw in preparation to hear what it was he meant to ask.

"Narcissa," he addressed her with a seriousness combined with a familiarity that she found most unsettling. "Has there ever been, in your entire life, anything that you have wanted- truly wanted that you have not gotten?" Narcissa thought it a strange question, indeed, and figured that he was about to accuse her of something once she'd answered him, but still she found herself willing to tell him.

"No," she admitted. Narcissa shrugged her shoulders and sighed. Lucius nodded at her once and stood from the bench. He gave her no witty come back, no commentary on how spoiled she had been; no response at all. He had begun to walk back toward the door when it occurred to her to correct herself. "Yes," she exhaled. "Once," she affirmed.

"Really?" he asked her, turning around slowly and cocking his head to the side. "Pray tell, Mrs. Malfoy," he implored. "Impart to me this story." Narcissa inwardly kicked herself for coming forward with that piece of information, but she felt it harmless enough to tell the tale.

"I was twelve years old," she told him, frowning. "There was this diamond brooch. There were rounds and marquises and baguettes, and all of them set into these spoke channels. And it was enchanted to rearrange itself into whatever flower the lady it's pinned to is in the mood to be wearing. I saw it in the window at Luxe Lustres in CordiAlley when mother had taken all of us Christmas shopping. I have no idea how much it cost. But my parents had a rule about gifts; they always spent the same amount of money on each of us for any one occasion. And there was no combination of things that An' or Bella wanted that Christmas that would add up to whatever that brooch cost." She shrugged her shoulders and reached out to retrieve her coffee cup, sipping at it again. "It's still in the shop window," she told him. "I know it's strange. Almost twenty-five years…I could have bought it for myself a dozen times over, a hundred maybe. But there is something to be said for remembering what it feels like to want something." Lucius frowned at her and shook her head.

"I'm going out," he told her. "Don't hold dinner for me," he instructed. Lucius turned from her and walked calmly out of the room. Narcissa listened to his footfalls against the tile floor until she couldn't catch the sound any longer. She still had no idea what it was he had been after with that question, and she still had no idea why he had been so familiar with her, but no matter. He was gone now and she was left with her piano.

Perhaps she would send a package of goodies to Draco later.

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Thanks Miss Anthrope for the timely and pleasant review. I am glad that you're here! More later, as I prefer to write at work than to work –evil grin again-

-MQ


	5. An Enigmatic Glimmer

Tonight's dinner would begin with vichyssoise, followed by shrimp louis, oysters Seville, and then a main course of trout Amandine with steamed asparagus spears and roasted new potatoes, and finish with a charlotte russe for dessert. Narcissa had forgotten when she had planned this week's meals that Draco would be away, so there had been no relaxation in the kitchen's mandate to cook complete dinners to be served in the formal dining room. Of course, she could have just told the kitchen elves to cease and desist and to bring her a bowl of soup and a roast beef sandwich, but she still enjoyed the idea of a proper meal in their dining room.

Perhaps it was just the way she'd been raised, but there was something comfortable to her about a meal that went just so. The familiarity of fine china and linen napkins, of finger bowls, and the glint of the polished silver was something in which Narcissa had found solace time and again. It was her nightly ritual and had been for her entire life. It was a comfortable and pleasant routine for Narcissa: to spend her evening making herself pretty, getting dressed in lovely robes, and adorning herself with jewels to share a meal with her family. And she had never in her entire life eaten dinner alone before tonight.

There had always been someone there to share this recurring comfort with. There had been her parents and her sisters, and then had come her classmates at Hogwarts, and after that her husband and finally her son. Lucius had been at the table last night; and silent though he may have been, he was still a comforting albeit tense presence at her table. Tonight he was absent altogether.

Narcissa stared down into her soup bowl and sighed. She had even heard the two kitchen elves whispering something to each other about how sad it was that 'missus' had to eat alone tonight. Even without company, Narcissa managed to find comfort in the familiarity of her china pattern and the intricate carving of the Malfoy silver.

Narcissa looked up from her soup and her malaise and was surprised to find that she was suddenly no longer alone; her husband was standing just inside the doorway. "Lucius," she greeted the new arrival, her surprise evident in her voice. She hadn't the foggiest idea how long he had been standing there, but from the look of things, it may have been more than a few minutes.

"Narcissa," he said back to her, entering the room properly and seating himself in his usual chair at the head of the table. His place was set as always, and immediately an elf appeared and filled his soup bowl from a tureen she carried before disappearing from sight again.

"You told me not to expect you," she excused herself for having started dinner without him.

"That is true," he agreed. "I did." He tilted his head toward her and folded his hands on the table in front of him. "Are you pleased to see me?" Narcissa looked up at him from her bowl again and nodded slightly.

"I am," she admitted to him. "I've no practice at taking my dinner alone." Lucius sat back in his chair and sighed.

"I believe I may have been wrong about something," he told her. Narcissa set her spoon down and gave him her full attention. She could not remember the last time he had admitted to being wrong about something.

"And what might that be, Lucius?" she asked him. He looked at her just then. He looked at her as though looking at her was the most important thing he had ever done; as though he had never seen her before and was trying to figure out what she looked like. He frowned again suddenly and reached into his pocket, bringing forth a small square box and placing it before her on the table.

"Open it," he instructed her. Narcissa was more than a little bit confused at this gesture. It had been years and years since he had given her a gift with no occasion to warrant it. And lately even anniversaries and Christmases had been marked by scarcely more than flowers and pieces of jewelry that she was sure he'd picked out with little to no deliberation. And although she loved all of those jewels for the fact that they were proof that he had at least thought to commemorate such things, she could not bring herself to guess as to what sort of item might be in this box.

"Lucius, what is this?" she asked, fingering the red ribbon that tied the box shut.

"Open it, Mrs. Malfoy," he instructed her again. Narcissa nodded her head and lifted the box from where he had placed it. She was all but completely convinced that Lucius would not choose to present her with divorce papers in such a fashion, so she did not hesitate in bringing the box to her and slipping off its ribbon.

She pulled the lid from the box and gasped audibly when she saw what was inside of it. She felt tears spring into her eyes and her stomach turned a flip. Narcissa knew that her mouth was hanging open and she brought one hand to cover it up while the other reached into the little box to touch the item that lay inside. "I can't believe you bought it," she exhorted, her hand still over her mouth. Narcissa shook her head in disbelief as she set the box back on the table and brought forth the sparkling jewels that she had found within it.

It was the self same brooch she had described to her husband that very morning as having been the only thing she had ever wanted and not gotten. The diamond spokes twisted this way and that as she held the brooch up to examine it. "May I?" Lucius asked her. Surely he wasn't offering to put it on her? He reached his hand toward her and it occurred to her that was exactly what he was offering to do. Narcissa nodded and handed the brooch to him.

"Of course," she allowed as she leaned a bit closer so as to give him a better angle at her lapel. Her dinner robes this night were a velvet burnout paisley of browns and blues and were rather more form-fitting than would normally allow a brooch to be pinned to. Lucius slid the pin into the fabric, folding the velvets just so with his other hand to make sure that he didn't catch her skin with its sharp point.

Narcissa tried to appear unaffected as he fingered the fabric of her robes. He hadn't touched her on purpose in more than a year, perhaps more than two, and his hands on her breast were causing reactions within her that she hadn't been fully sure she was even still capable of. Lucius let his hands linger on her dress for a moment as he looked her in the face. Then, as if he had made some decision, he fastened the clasp and leaned back to watch as the brooch settled itself in the shape of a flower. "Daffodil," Narcissa observed. Lucius nodded his head and squared his jaw. "Thank you," she said to him. Narcissa was pretty sure at this point that she was once again capable of speech. "But why?" she added, still fingering the brooch and switching her gaze quickly back and forth between the diamonds and her husband.

"Because I wanted for us to be on equal footing when I made this proposition to you," he said in reply.

"A proposition?" she asked. "You know you should never end a sentence with a proposition…?" Narcissa chuckled lightly. She had a bad habit of nervously injecting levity into conversations where it did not properly belong and she could tell from the look on her husband's face that her poor attempt at humor had not been well received.

"You amuse me, Narcissa, but I am quite serious," he drawled.

"I beg your pardon," she answered, a contrite frown coming to her face.

"Now," he began again, "As I was saying: I may have been wrong about something," he reminded her. "And that brooch is a symbol of why that is." Narcissa had no idea at all what he was getting at, but she was more than willing to hear him out.

"I'm listening," she encouraged.

"That piece of jewelry, Narcissa," he began again, "was the last thing that either one of us had ever wanted that we had failed to get. Now neither of us can say that there is anything that we have ever wished for that we have not gained." Narcissa nodded. She still had no idea where he was going with this line. "And I believe with some certainty, as of our conversation yesterday evening, that we both wish to make this marriage work again." Narcissa's mouth fell open again. Had he just said that he wanted to make their marriage work…? Could he really mean such a thing?

"I…" She had no idea what to say to that. Lucius held up his hand as though to stop her from speaking and continued with his thought.

"I believe I may have been wrong when I said we could not get back what we had lost, Narcissa. Between the two of us we have never failed to get what we want, and I truly believe that there is no reason that we cannot have a happy marriage if that is what we intend to accomplish. We get what we want, you and I. And if what we want is happiness, then it should be within our power to have it."

"Is that what you want?" she asked him. It was becoming very difficult not to cry, and it was becoming very difficult to form rational thoughts. Narcissa watched as Lucius pulled his napkin from the table, placing it in his lap, and then picked up his soup spoon and started in on the vichyssoise.

"I believe it is, Mrs. Malfoy," he answered her. Narcissa considered him for a moment and took a spoonful of soup as well. She had no idea what to say to that. She had wished for this moment for years and years, but now that it had come she hadn't the foggiest idea of how to handle it. She knew in her mind that she'd rehearsed some eloquent and heartfelt response hundreds of times over, but now that the moment was here she had forgotten everything that she had ever wanted to say.

Yesterday he had her fully convinced that there was no saving their relationship. She had even decided that he had been right; there had been too much distance, too many years, and too many betrayals for them to fight their way back to the way they used to be. But here he was; sitting next to her at the dinner table, no witnesses, nothing to prove, and offering her the thing she had thought she had wanted most in the world and that only yesterday she had begun to let go of.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted; her voice was tremulous at best, but her eyes obeyed for the time being and remained dry.

"Say you'll consider it," he instructed her. As usual, Lucius Malfoy had his faculties intact. Not that it surprised her greatly. Never in any moment that she could recall had he been at a loss for words. But, of course, he'd have thought this through fully. She was sure that he had prepared himself for everything she might have said to him under these circumstances. He'd had all afternoon to consider the possibilities, but she had been hit by surprise with this. How like him to find a way to have the upper hand in even this difficult situation.

And yet she was somehow certain that he was sincere. He was going about this his way, but she was getting what she wanted…wasn't she? How long had she wished and hoped for Lucius to turn his attention back to her? How much did she miss feeling like he loved her? And he had loved her once, she knew that. And she knew that, no matter what else had gone on between them, he hadn't spent a whole night away from her since the days when the Dark Lord's work had forced him to. That was worth something. And he had come here this evening with the most thoughtful gift she'd received in years and asking her to consider trying to rebuild their life together.

Why had this given her pause, then? Perhaps because she felt as though he had ambushed her with his proposition…? He had certainly taken her by surprise, as it had been Lucius who said originally that there was no chance. But she wanted this so very badly that she was willing to see past a great deal if it meant that they would really have the chance to fall in love again.

"I'll more than consider it," she allowed, showing him the faintest hint of a smile; as much of an expression as she was sure she could form without tearing up. "It's what I want, too," she shared. "I agree with your assessment of things," she told him, looking up from her bowl and into his eyes. "And I think it's worth a try."

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Thanks for the reviews so far! I think that those of you who hated me when you started this chapter may hate me less now. I hope so anyway. Let me know what you're thinking…

MQ


	6. Play it as I May

Narcissa was curled up with a new book on a wicker chaise on the rear veranda when she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up from her reading to acknowledge her company.

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," he greeted her, seating himself on foot of her chaise. She thought it odd that he chose to sit so close to her, but she tried not to let that come across her face as she echoed his salutation.

"Good morning," she said back to him. She took her coffee from the glass topped table next to her and took a sip as she watched Lucius help himself to a slice of apple from the nearby breakfast tray.

"You're up early," he observed. Narcissa nodded. Usually by this time of morning she had gone _back_ to bed; having spent several of the late night hours unable to sleep, but this morning her thoughts had consumed her to the point where she had found it pointless to try and slip back into bed before Lucius woke.

"Since three," she admitted. Lucius' eyes widened. Apparently he had no idea of what her night time routine had been of late.

"You're wearing your new brooch," he observed. Narcissa nodded.

"I like it," she said. "And diamonds go with everything," she added, holding her diamond engagement ring up to the diamond Astilbe on her lapel.

"That they do," he conceded. "May I ask, Mrs. Malfoy," he began, looking over the selection of goodies on her breakfast tray, "what have you been up to for all of these hours? Surely you've not been at that book the whole time."

"No; not the whole time," she allowed. "I've been to the kitchens," she told him. "I've sent off a bushel of goodies to Draco at school," she added; "Which should arrive just in time to ruin his breakfast." She smiled over at Lucius, knowing that he would likely approve of anything she did that might annoy Dumbledore. "I only started in on the book an hour or so ago; it only arrived in the post this morning," she added. Lucius snagged a muffin from the breakfast tray and helped himself to a cup of coffee from the silver carafe.

"Interesting reading?" he asked her, gesturing again to the book in her lap. Narcissa nodded. It was more odd than she knew how to process, but it seemed as though he was engaging her in idle chatter. Last night they'd barely spoken after Lucius had made his proposition to her, and then he had abruptly left the table and the house. She hadn't seen him again until he had come to bed at two in the morning and now he was trying to make small talk with her? It was very strange.

"It's Australian," she told him, holding up the book for his inspection. "I ordered it through the post; took more than a week to get here. It's a sort of treatise on recent developments in potion making. You'd be amazed at the things they're doing with fierce snake venom." She sipped her coffee again and then replaced her cup on its saucer.

"Fierce snake venom?" he repeated. "Were you thinking of killing me or yourself?" he asked. What a pointed question.

"I suppose myself- when I ordered it," she admitted. "But as of this morning, only my curiosity." Lucius nodded and took the book from her lap, setting it aside on the breakfast tray.

"If it's all the same to you, Mrs. Malfoy," he said to her, "I'd prefer you not read about new and interesting poisons just at the moment."

"Alright," she conceded, nodding her head. "I shall keep my nose out of the Dark Arts for the time being." She tilted her head slightly and studied him. His face was totally unreadable, and yet softer than she was expecting it to seem. "Are there to be other rules of engagement?" she asked him. "For this undertaking?" She was well aware of the amount of work it was going to take from both of them of they were to truly reclaim the relationship that they had once enjoyed and it had occurred to her that perhaps they should set a few parameters for themselves as they went about it.

"I suppose that would be prudent," he agreed. "And, as I've just made one, I believe it's your turn." Narcissa smiled at him a little and folded her hands in her lap.

"Okay," she considered. "We have to be completely honest," she insisted. "And we have to be willing to forgive each other; whatever we learn."

"That was two," he observed, his mouth quirking into a wry smile. Narcissa smiled at him again.

"Then you get two more," she posed, raising one eyebrow and awaiting his response.

"But you took the best ones," he countered. Narcissa chuckled a little at that. He hadn't been this genial in a long time and she had to admit that she was enjoying it.

"Then I shall take one back so that you may have it," she offered. Lucius crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, his face never falling from a smile.

"But that would be cheating," he told her. "I am sure I can think of something," he assured her. Narcissa narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. This was fun.

"I'm waiting," she teased.

"And you shall continue to wait," he said back; "until I am good and ready to tell you what's on my mind." He nodded his head and eyed her. Narcissa tried her best not to crack a smile as he continued to look her over. "In fact," he added, "that will be the next rule."

"What?" she asked for clarification.

"That we must be patient with each other," he affirmed. "I am likely to screw this up more ways than I care to count. And I can only hope for my own sake that you will be equally inept. So we must promise to be patient as we learn how to relate to each other again."

"See," she replied to him, allowing herself a smile again. "I didn't take all of the good ones."

"You're pretty," he said to her, as though out of nowhere. Narcissa felt her face drop into an expression indicative of the surprise she was suddenly feeling. He hadn't complimented her in… she had no idea how long. He hadn't really even looked at her in several years. Perhaps he had only just noticed that she was still attractive. It pleased her greatly that he seemed to notice that she had taken care of her appearance even while he wasn't looking.

"Thank you," she said back to him.

"You're welcome," he replied. "It's true." Narcissa averted her eyes and felt a blush rising to her cheeks. "And my next rule is that we must be considerate of one another."

"Fair enough," she agreed.

"And on that subject, I feel as though I should explain something to you," he informed her.

"I'm listening," she answered, sitting up straighter. He was being serious all of the sudden; his face falling from the smile he'd worn into a more thoughtful expression.

"I've accepted a position at the Ministry," he told her. "I've been asked by the new administration to sit on the board of Governors for Hogwarts."

"Why, that's wonderful," she commented. So that's where he had been spending his days.

"I'm glad you approve," he said to her.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" she asked. Lucius shook his head.

"I had no idea how you'd react to the news," he shared. "Which is likely why I hadn't told you."

"We really do have to have to get to know each other all over again, don't we?" she observed.

"That we do," he agreed.

"Then that shall be my next rule," she declared. "We must make time for each other, and spend that time doing whatever we can to enjoy each other's company, and get to know each other as the people we have become in these years of barely speaking."

"Agreed," he responded. "And to add to that," he continued, "we should begin to appear in public together again." Narcissa nodded. How long had it been since they had been out together? "I accepted this Ministry job primarily for Draco's sake. I feel as though I have done him some disservice in neglecting our social position for the past several years. And as much as you have done an admirable job in maintaining your place in polite society, I have been noticeably absent from such, and I think it's high time that we work together on assuring Draco's future. There are balls and banquets from which we have withdrawn for far too long."

"I think I would like that very much," she said to him, her face again rising to a tiny smile. "In fact, I'm sure I would." Lucius smiled back at her.

"I must be going," he informed her as he stood from the chaise. "I am expected in London," he explained.

"What time can I expect you home?" she asked him. Lucius looked at her and frowned. "If we are to be considerate of each other," she said, "then you should be willing to tell me when you'll be home, and I should see to it that I'm here to greet you when you arrive." His face shifted into a smile.

"Well played, Mrs. Malfoy," he commented. "I shall be here at six thirty," he informed her. She nodded her head and smiled back.

"See, that wasn't so difficult," she shared. "Now, I believe this is the part where I say 'have a nice day at the office, dear'."

"And I say 'have a pleasant day as well'," he answered. The both of them chuckled a little. Lucius nodded to her again before turning to leave. Narcissa picked up her coffee again and smiled to herself.

They had just had their first wholly pleasant conversation in years. He really had been serious yesterday; Narcissa felt a hope welling up inside of her that she hadn't known she was even capable of any more. She wondered what would come of the rest of the day.

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I had a review from Peevesthepoltergeist when I got back from rehearsal (we did our fight scene tonight and it was a ball, but I am posting this as the tub fills with hot water- I am beat up!) and I am; as always with your reviews Peevsey, inspired to update immediately. So this was more… Reviews… please… consider them a wedding present (12 days away!!!)

-MQ


	7. And If Their Wings Should Burn

"Something vexing you?" Lucius asked from his seat before the fire. Narcissa sighed as she sat before her vanity mirror brushing out her hair before retiring to bed for the night.

"I'm not vexed," she answered him, looking down again at the parchment that lay on the table before her. "I'm a terrible mother," she stated. She took the letter from the vanity table and folded it, placing it carefully in a box on the tabletop.

"I don't believe that for a moment," Lucius countered. He rose from his chair and crossed to stand behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Why is it that you accuse yourself of such?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Narcissa shook her head and spun round on her seat to face him.

"My little son," she began, "my precious baby dragon is miserable at that school and I've no mind to do anything about it," she admitted. Narcissa felt quite glad to be sharing this with her husband, as she and Lucius had always been more comfortable discussing Draco than anything else; and it seemed an appropriate topic to close out their first night of forced civility.

Surprisingly: they had found rather early on that they had scarcely to force anything. They'd had a rather pleasant evening, all told. Narcissa had filled him in on all of the dealings of the committees she still sat on; particularly those that she had only ever joined at his insistence, and he had told her of what things were like at the Ministry and all about the new administration that she ever could have cared to know.

"Draco," Lucius said back to her, "miserable?" he sounded rather surprised. "He hasn't mentioned anything to me about it," he told her. Narcissa shook her head.

"Of course he hasn't. You he tells when things are going well," she explained. "He'd never admit weakness to you. That's what I'm here for. I'm the more easily manipulated; so he thinks. I'm the one he tells when something is wrong so that I may fix it for him. But at this moment I am disinclined to take any action at all, save perhaps strangling that Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" Lucius asked, quirking his eyebrow upward. "What of Harry Potter?" Narcissa sighed and shook her head. Of course Draco hadn't mentioned this to Lucius either.

"As you likely know," she began; "The famous Harry Potter has indeed come to Hogwarts this year. Draco met him just before the sorting. And your son, ever the diplomat that he is, offered to take Potter up; show him what's what and who's who- it's not the boy's fault he was raised by Muggles after all. And it seems that Potter was right nasty to him. He implied that Draco was the wrong kind of wizard to be friends with and (oh, you'll love this) he's been going about with a Weasley, of all people. Draco got his feelings hurt, a lot, and that I can't stand for. But as for the rest of it…"

"Yes," Lucius encouraged, "tell me of the rest of it."

"Oh," Narcissa shrugged. "He just seems to think that the hazing is particularly brutal this year. I doubt seriously if it's any worse that anything you or I had to go through."

"Really, Mrs. Malfoy?" Lucius asked her with a knowing look on his face. Narcissa smiled and shook her head a little.

"Alright, I confess… I mean it can't be any worse than what _you_ were made to suffer," she corrected. "I had the good fortune of being Bellatrix Black's baby sister and no one dared so much as give me the wrong directions to a classroom for fear that she'd hex them cross-eyed and bald-headed."

"Quite so," Lucius affirmed. "I was warned personally not to go near you."

"Were you really?" she asked him. Lucius nodded, his mouth drawing itself into a half smile as he walked the few steps to sit on the arm of the chair nearest Narcissa's seat.

"Bellatrix wanted to see to it that my friends and I stayed clear of you," he shared. "And it worked for a while," he recalled. "Since she had been the worst one to deal with when I was a first year. I knew better than to ask for a second helping of that." Narcissa chuckled. She remembered quite well the pranks and the hexes that were visited on first year Slytherins courtesy of her eldest sister. Hazing the 'ickle firsties' was a Slytherin tradition that went back as far as anyone could remember, and Narcissa thought herself to have been most fortunate not to have been victim to it.

"I wish Draco had someone to protect him," Narcissa commented.

"He'll be fine," Lucius assured her.

"I hope so," she answered him. "I've taken care of everything that's ever gone wrong in his life up until now," she reminded him. "Every skinned knee, every bad dream… and now he feels as though he's got a real problem and yet I am not motivated in the least to rescue him."

"And you think that makes you a terrible mother?" Lucius asked her, concern beginning to edge its way into his voice.

"I'm afraid Draco will feel that way," she said to him. "And yes, I feel guilty about it. Which is foolish, I know; because I have been very strict with myself in preparing to be just this unmotivated to solve any more of his problems for him."

"What do you mean by 'strict with yourself'?" Lucius asked her, leaning forward a little in his seat.

"I mean," she replied, "that I've known this would be coming. Well, maybe not this particularly, but I knew that he would be going away and that he would have to learn to figure some things out for himself." She shrugged her shoulders and folded her hands in her lap. "He's not my little dragon anymore," she posited, "he's a Slytherin; and that means something- at least it used to. It means something to me anyway. And part of that is that he is going to have to learn to fight his own battles. And so I am very definite about not wanting to try interfere with his finding his own way at school, but I also very definitely wonder if that makes me a horrible parent." She shrugged and turned again to face her mirror, continuing with the hairbrush that was still in her hands.

"You're a wonderful mother, Narcissa," Lucius told her, again standing up and crossing to stand behind her.

"Thank you," she said, her voice suddenly becoming soft almost to the point of unfamiliarity. That was a genuine compliment, and Narcissa was rusty at best at knowing how to receive such things from her husband. And as though he had known what she was thinking, Lucius tenderly albeit timidly placed his hand on her shoulder; the first physical comfort he had offered to her in longer than she cared to recall.

Narcissa felt herself tense for a moment and then relax into his touch. It felt nice; his hand on her shoulder, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin silk of her dressing gown, the gentle pressure of his thumb on the curve where her shoulder met the base of her neck. "I appreciate your saying so," she added, shyly leaning her cheek against his hand for a moment.

Narcissa was suddenly and painfully aware that the moment had become awkward. They were years out of practice at touching each other and it seemed that neither of them was quite sure of how to go about it any more. Her cheek lingered against his knuckles for longer than she guessed he had intended for his fingers to linger upon her shoulder. Lucius clenched his hand into a hesitant fist and looked obviously miffed as to the way to respond to the change in the mood in the room. He stepped back from her, but then found his courage and returned to where he stood.

"I mean it, Narcissa," he said to her. "You have been a perfect mother to our son. I'm actually quite impressed that you're so set on letting him begin fighting his own battles. And your willingness to question that decision is proof enough that you're not a bad parent. You love your son and you want what's best for him, and sometimes that's not what's easy." Narcissa smiled serenely and again met his eyes through the reflection in the mirror.

"That's how I see it, too," she told him. "But somehow it sounds so much more convincing coming from you." Lucius smiled back at her reflection.

"If it would ease your mind," he offered; "I will write Draco myself with some advice as to how to respectably avoid a good portion of the hazing, and some pointers on how he might get back at anyone who causes him any real trouble without officially breaking any rules. Our boy is small, but powerful," he reminded her. "And he is _our_ boy, Narcissa. I'll gently encourage him in a direction that will have him plotting revenge and he should have his mind off of being miserable soon enough."

"You would do that?" she asked. Lucius hadn't done anything for her benefit where Draco was concerned since just before his seventh birthday, when he had ordered the boy down off of his new broomstick with an edict that he would never see the thing again if he ever again refused to come down at her insistence.

"I'll do it now if you'd like," he agreed.

"Thank you," Narcissa sighed. Lucius grinned at her.

"You are quite welcome," he answered. Narcissa could see the expression on his face fall slowly and she watched his reflection. She finished brushing her hair presently and turned in the seat to face him again.

"Lucius…?" she addressed him. Lucius shook off whatever was on his face and looked down at her. He reached over and picked her hand up off of her lap. Narcissa felt her mouth agape as she wondered what was going on. She hadn't felt his bare skin touching hers in ages, and it felt so nice to have her hand held. It was warm, and although years had passed since the last time he'd taken her hand, it was still familiar and wonderful. Narcissa tried to see to it that her face wore the appropriate expression to illustrate how she was enjoying this moment, but the best that she seemed to be able to offer was a tentative smile as she fought off tears.

And then Lucius Malfoy did something totally unexpected. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Narcissa felt her breath catch in her throat as he did so, and her eyes fell shut for just an instant so that she could relish the feel of the kiss all the more. Oh how she had missed his lips…. She remembered the intensity and the joy and the sweetness of dozens of kisses gone by. And his lips on her fingers could be counted as the first victory in the battle they were waging to win back their marriage from whatever inside of them had stolen it away.

Lucius replaced her hand where he had taken it from and nodded his head in deference to her. "I shall go and write that letter presently," he said to her. "Good night Mrs. Malfoy," he wished her. Lucius turned slowly and headed toward the door of the bedroom.

"Good night," she called after him once she was fully sure that she had control over her voice again. Lucius paused in the doorway and turned to look at her again.

"I'll try not to wake you when I come to bed," he said. Narcissa smiled at him.

"Then I shall try to remain asleep," she assured him. Lucius smiled pleasantly at her and then disappeared down the hall. Perhaps she may sleep through the night at that.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Thank you all for the lovely words of review. I am pleased that folks are staying with me through the angst. I am new to angst… I usually (as pointed out by O-Yossarian-O) write 'fluffy' Malfoys. Thanks for being here through 'angsty' Malfoys. More later today, as I am going to need Lucius and Narcissa to get my mind off that my florist bailed on me with 11 days until the wedding.

-MQ


	8. And Out Again

Narcissa had stopped wondering some time in the previous few weeks just how long it had been since she'd been so excited about something and really had put her heart into enjoying how excited she was at the moment. She was going to a _party._ And not just any party, either; she was going to an event hosted by the new Minister for Magic himself. Great Britain had been chosen to host the next World Cup of Quidditch, and a ball was being held to greet visiting dignitaries from all of the nations that would be attending. The invitations were practically impossible to come by, and the tickets were ridiculously expensive; this was exactly the kind of party Narcissa had missed the most over the past few years.

It wasn't as though she had been a social hermit since the fall of the Dark Lord. But things had become different almost immediately and it seemed as though the Malfoys' social calendar had never fully recovered. All of their dearest friends had been Death Eaters, and the lot of them had much more pressing things to deal with just after the fall of the Dark Lord than hosting and attending soirees. Some of them had been convicted and sent to Azkaban, and others had lay low or left the country entirely in the wake of their acquittals. The Malfoys' Solstice ball had been cancelled in 1981 in light of the fact that Lucius was being put on trial, and many others in their milieu had similar cancellations that season. There hadn't been a Malfoy Solstice celebration since. Most of the regularly occurring occasions of their lives had similarly fallen by the wayside, and still others had chosen to no longer include acquitted Death Eater suspects on their list of invites.

Narcissa had kept up her charity work, and had managed to still receive guests for tea or take tea in another parlor at least thrice per week, and Draco had a full schedule of birthdays to attend (the one set of occasions in which former Death Eaters completely relaxed their interdictions against socializing; those with children of the same age always attended each others birthdays) but it had been literally ages since Lucius and Narcissa had attended a ball. And this one would be absolutely grand. The Ministry had spent weeks and weeks and tens of thousands of Galleons getting it ready. Normally a party of this magnitude would have been held at the Ministry's property at Kidwelly Castle in Wales, but they had chosen to hold this function on the site where the World Cup stadium would be erected.

Narcissa couldn't wait to see what magic and money had done to make a field of grass into a grand ballroom' but even more than that she couldn't wait to see the look on her husband's face when he saw her in her dress. They had really begun enjoying each other over the last few weeks, and Narcissa had learned again to relax and enjoy his presence. She had decided on this night, as they made their debut back in to society, that it was high time that she started flirting with him.

He had kissed her nine times since they had made the decision to try and work things out; three times on her hand, once on the left cheek, twice on the right cheek, twice on the left temple, and once on her forehead. Narcissa hoped that tonight she could be kissed properly. And with that thought in mind, she had spent more on dress robes for this party than she had spent on any single item for herself since Draco was born.

It was an exquisite dress of midnight blue iridescent taffeta with a high back and plunging neckline. It had black velvet ribbon trim, three-quarter sleeves, and went beautifully with the sapphires Lucius had given her for the last Valentine's Day they'd celebrated before the fall of the Dark Lord. Narcissa wondered if Lucius might remember that he'd given her sheets to match the jewelry, but it mattered very little to her as she studied her reflection for the last time before meeting him in the entry hall to leave.

She looked prettier at this moment than she remembered herself to be. Narcissa had always been a bit self-conscious about her looks. This insecurity had led to many hours on end of studying herself in her mirror; an affectation that had been time and again mistaken for vanity. In truth, she had been known as the youngest and the plainest of the three Black daughters and it had somehow managed to escape her notice that she had grown into a very beautiful woman. But Lucius had noticed it once, and she noticed it now, and she was about to see to it that he noticed again.

Her dress was perfect and fit her still slim and pert figure precisely. Her hair was coiffed in an intricate pattern of curls and twists, perched just so atop her head as to draw attention to her slender neck. And the little black velvet dancing slippers she wore had just enough of a heel to put her at perfect kissing height. She looked right fetching from head to foot- if she did say so herself.

Narcissa gave herself one final nod in the mirror and then snagged her favorite silver fox fur coat (from the same Valentine's Day as the sapphires) and her small velvet evening bag. She felt herself almost giddy with anticipation as she practically bounded from her room and into the hall. She descended the small stairs quickly and then stopped for a moment to catch her breath before turning down the hall and then regally descending the grand staircase.

She saw Lucius before he saw her. He was watching for the coach out the front windows, his hat and gloves and cane in the hand that wasn't pulling the drapes aside. His hair, which had grown very long in the past few years, fell loose yet immaculately down his back and his black dress robes made him look even more exquisite than usual. She could feel her chest welling up with genuine happiness as she watched him there. They were only beginning again, but it was a good beginning, and she loved him every bit as much as she ever had. And tonight he was taking her to a grand gala full of diplomats and dignitaries. They would certainly be the most handsome couple in attendance.

Narcissa was two-thirds of the way down the grand staircase when Lucius turned around and saw her. She delighted ever so much in the brief change in his expression that she saw take over his face. No matter what distance had been put between them at their own hands; Lucius was still Lucius and she knew him better than anyone ever had. Someone less familiar with the man would never have seen the shift in his eyes or the twitch in his lips signaling a pleasant surprise. He had no real 'tell', no very obvious shift in his bearing that might give his position away to an associate or an adversary. But Narcissa knew the infinitesimal glint in his eyes by heart. She alone had ever been able to tell his mood or anticipate his inclinations. And there was no question in her mind as she reached the bottom of the stairs that Lucius was very pleased with what he saw.

"You…" He looked her up and down and seemed at a loss for words. That was certainly not normal for Lucius, and it was enough to indicate to Narcissa that the dress had done its job and that all of the effort she had put in to her appearance had been entirely worth the effort.

"Think about what you want to say and get back to me?" she joked, crossing to where he was standing. Narcissa so rarely had the upper hand that she couldn't resist the chance to say something sassy. It occurred to her briefly how happy she was that they had already reached a point in this reconciliation where she felt comfortable with such jocularity. Lucius, for his part, quirked his lip at her and took her coat from her arms. She turned to allow him to help her on with the fur and then smiled up at him again.

"You look exquisite," he said to her, bending to kiss her temple. Kiss number ten, and it was still early.

"Thank you," she answered. "I knew that I'd have to make an effort if I was to live up to the privilege of attending this soiree with the handsomest wizard in all of England." Lucius held his arm out to her as they watched the coach pulling up the drive.

"You flatter me, my dear," he answered back to her. Narcissa felt her heart flutter at that. He had called her 'my dear'. For years he had only addressed her formally by her full first name, or the even more distant 'Mrs. Malfoy'. She knew that she was grinning uncontrollably as she took his arm. "Shall we?" he asked, tilting his head toward the door. Narcissa nodded, her silly grin still across her face.

"Yes, let's."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a choice between a relatively short chapter now or a very long one later. Y'all always seem to prefer the 'now' option; so that was it. The party and its aftermath will get its own chapter. And good news: I have a wonderful NEW florist who is going to do everything the same and for the same price- YAY! And… good news for y'all; it snowed. That means that I will not be leaving the house tomorrow and will have much time for writing. Review please and THANKS for all that have come in so far!!!!!!!

-MQ


	9. Like Moths Around a Flame

What a party it had been. The dinner had been the most delectable epicure Narcissa could remember having ever been served at such a large-scale gathering. The wines were the most delightful bouquets from the finest vines of every nation represented. The music had been provided by none other than Cidrella Cassledine and the Symphfeign Sorcerers. They were the most incredible classical musicians in all of European wizardry, and Narcissa was having a splendid time dancing to the spirited sounds they produced.

She had danced a Tarantella with a Polish gentleman whose name she wouldn't dare try and pronounce and listened to him jabber in an accent so heavy that she'd no clue as to what he was saying. And then she had shared a lovely minuet with a Frenchman named Henri who had done nothing but pay her compliments and rattle on about Quidditch. And every waltz had belonged to her husband.

Lucius had become almost jealous of her time during the dancing and Narcissa couldn't help but be thrilled by his attention. She was having such a wonderful time; dancing and drinking wine and hobnobbing with dignitaries made it feel as though no time at all had passed since she was a lovely new bride of nineteen and the belle of the ball wherever she went. What a grand idea this had been! And the waltzes…oh the waltzes had been divine. The Sympheign Sorcerers knew everything from Laendlers to Viennese to Cross-steps to Peruvians and Lucius had insisted on dancing every one with her.

He hadn't stood so close to her in ages, and it had been even longer since they'd danced together. His hand in hers and his arm around her waist were almost incendiary points of contact as he led her in the steps they had shared so many times past. They used to love dancing together. In fact, it had been a waltz that made Narcissa notice him in the first place.

He had come to find her at her father's birthday party just after her middle sister Andromeda had run away to get married. She had been in an upstairs parlor and he had insisted that she join him for a dance. Dancing had become a sort of silent language between them in the years before they were married, and a way of flirting that took less effort than trying to find something clever to say. Lucius was a wonderful dancer, and Narcissa was thrilled beyond belief to find herself in his arms in this room on this night. There were dozens of couples on the dance floor, and none of them looked as handsome or as well in tune with each other as the Malfoys.

Narcissa had to stifle a giggle as her husband dipped her slightly at the end of a metered Polonaise and she nearly lost her footing. The music stopped for barely a moment and then the orchestra began a noisy and rhythmic Tarantella. The Malfoys exchanged a look between them and then gracefully left the dance floor. If there was one thing that they had likely never ceased to agree on it was that they both hated the Tarantella.

Lucius led her to a bench near a giant planted pot on the edge of the dance floor. The grass had been cut very short, but it still felt soft and pleasant under her feet, and Narcissa was more than happy to sit and watch the silly-looking of the couples in the Tarantella. Lucius stood next to her, his hand in hers, and watched the dancing himself. She could tell that he had seen something of interest when he let go of her hand and stepped away from her, but there were enough people between her and the dance floor to obscure her view to the point where she had no idea what it was that interested Lucius so.

It was a mere moment before she saw what he had spotted. A very old friend of theirs who Narcissa hadn't seen in years was walking toward them. Narcissa stood and reached her hand out to him. "Charlton Avery!" she greeted the man as he closed the distance.

Charlton Avery had been in Narcissa's year at Hogwarts and had joined the Death Eaters sometime before they had left school. He was the one friend of theirs from those days who had not been sent off to prison and yet chose not to settle down and live what others might call a 'respectable' lifestyle. Charlton Avery had inherited a small fortune when his father had committed suicide just weeks after the fall of Lord Voldemort. The elder Avery had been a supporter of Lord Voldemort since his earliest vies for power and apparently had thought himself incapable of living in a world with no Dark Lord. The money that he had left his only son had been put to good use since his death.

Charlton had invested his inheritance very wisely and had managed to live the life of the consummate millionaire playboy. He had never married, but instead had chosen to make a point of being seen at every important social occasion with a different beautiful yet questionable social-climbing young lady. Narcissa was pretty sure that she recognized the woman on his arm tonight, although she couldn't place the face. Truly, the woman looked older than most of the women that Charlton was known to associate with and Narcissa had to wonder for a moment if he had hired the girl for the evening.

"Narcissa," Charlton greeted her with a kiss on her hand. "Lucius," he added, turning to his old friend and shaking his hand. Narcissa took another moment to study his bawdy escort. She was tallish, just a smidge taller than Narcissa was, and she had dark hair and dark eyes and a bust that seemed to go on for ages. She was wearing the most garish color of red and her cosmetics were equally tacky. And she was looking at Narcissa with some air of nastiness that was near impossible to place.

And then it hit her; she knew this woman. She had been at Hogwarts with them; between Lucius' and Bellatrix's years. What was her name?

"Aphrodite Killingsworth," Lucius greeted the woman before Narcissa had a chance to place her. Of course! This was that awful girl who used to put chewing gum between the pages of Andromeda's books and to shrink girls' skirts in the halls between classes until their knickers were showing to the whole school. Rumor had it that she'd had her way through the eligible and well-to-do men in Britain and had gone off to do the same somewhere in Europe. How in the name of Merlin had she managed to slime her way into a party like this one?

"Lucius Malfoy!" she called back, extending her hand to him. "It's been ages!" she added. Narcissa noticed that Lucius kept the woman's eyes as he lifted her hand to kiss it and then coolly let go. "And Narcissa Black," she added, turning just so.

"Why Ms. Killingsworth," Narcissa said back to her, stressing the _Ms._ and sounding as superior as she possibly could. "You've been on the continent for too long," she informed the other woman. "It's been Mrs. Malfoy for more than a decade and a half." Narcissa nodded her head and smiled her most practiced and socially gracious smile.

"Of course," the darker woman conceded. "I believe I had heard that." Narcissa couldn't help but notice that Aphrodite was looking at Lucius as she said that and it caused a feeling to well up in the pit of her stomach that she was not at all fond of. "I'd love to stay and chat, Lucius," she said, "really I would, but Charlie and I were just on our way out." She said that final phrase in just the right tone of voice to assure that there was no way anyone present would not guess as to what they were going 'out' to do. The look in her eyes as she said it was enough to make Narcissa feel fully ill.

And suddenly it was as though her eyes had come clear. Narcissa felt all of the blood draining from her face and she had to work very hard not to fall into her seat as she watched Charlton and Aphrodite departing. She looked over at her husband and did her best not to let her mouth fall open as the full weight of what she had just realized came down upon her.

Narcissa knew that Lucius and Aphrodite had a past. They had been inseparable while they were both at school, and it had been no secret as to the nature of their relationship. But Narcissa had an inclination at this moment that perhaps their past was not so distant as she may have liked for them to have been. It seemed as though she had been unable to hide her shock and disgust fully, as Lucius turned to her with clear concern on his face.

"Are you alright, Narcissa?" he asked her. Narcissa took a deep but shaky breath and shook her head. It was as though the wonderful bubble she had been dancing across all night had burst and she was left to fall callously to the hard ground.

"Take me home," she managed to get out. Her voice was harsh and raspy and she hated herself a little for letting the emotion that was welling inside of her affect her demeanor so much. She could feel her face shifting into an expression of near disgust and she turned to face Lucius as she spoke again. "I'm going home," she informed him. "You may come as well," she added. Narcissa turned on her heel and charged toward the coat check to retrieve her fur. Lucius had to act quickly to keep up with her, but he managed to stay in step as she got her coat and headed for the coach.

"Narcissa, what's the matter?" he asked her. He held out his hand to help her into the coach, but she refused and climbed in unaided. Lucius got into the coach and seated himself across from her; no doubt he had guessed that she was put out with him, although she was relatively certain that he hadn't begun to guess as to why. She shook her head and folded her hands in her lap.

"I…" She had to say something while she gathered herself. She knew going in to this exercise of reconciliation that there were going to be moments like this. She knew that there were things that they were going to have to discuss that she found utterly distasteful, but she hadn't been prepared to be blindsided like she was tonight. Narcissa had known that Lucius had been cheating, but she had not at all been ready to face one of the other women so soon and with no warning. Truth be told she would rather have never seen any of them at all. This was a conversation that she had known was coming, and she knew that it had likely been a bad idea to have avoided it thus far; but they had been doing so well at enjoying each other's company thus far that it was no real surprise to her that neither of them had thought to bring up anything so unpleasant as his infidelity.

In fact, they had never been good at talking through their problems. Even in the best of times they had a great habit of getting through unpleasant things by ignoring them completely in favor of more pleasant topic. But this issue was like a giant elephant in the coach between them and as much as she would like to continue to avoid and ignore it, there seemed to be no real way to progress without clearing the air of this madness. But she had to have her wits about her and be over the shock she was feeling before she would broach the subject with him. She did not want this night, which had shown so much promise at the outset to degenerate into a setback.

"I have a headache," she lied. Lucius frowned at her and nodded his head. She could tell that he was not buying her story for a second, but she was happy enough that he was willing to let her have this moment without pressing the issue. Narcissa averted her eyes and remained silent for the remainder of the journey home.

When they arrived at their front door, she allowed Lucius to help her down from the coach. She measured her steps as she alighted the stoop and passed through the door into the entry hall. Narcissa shed her coat and dropped it onto the house-elf who had opened the door for her. She went quietly through the entry hall, up the grand staircase and then up the curving flight to the private floor of the house. As she went through the nearest heavy oak door she wondered for a moment why Lucius had not followed her. She guessed that perhaps he had sensed that she needed a moment to compose herself before talking with him. He may have even puzzled out what she wanted to talk about.

It wasn't long until her husband came in. He brought with him a potion bottle and a cup of tea. "I thought…" he began, his voice tentative and quieter than normal. "For your headache," he told her, setting the two items on the table nearest where she was sitting. Narcissa nodded and sighed heavily. Lucius sat on a chair facing her and leaned forward leaning his elbows against his knees. "This is more than just a headache," he observed. Narcissa nodded, allowing her eyes to shut for a second before looking up at him.

"Yes," she affirmed.

"What is it?" he asked. He sounded genuinely concerned, and as though he had no idea as to what was on her mind.

"That vulgar woman," she answered heavily.

"Aphrodite?" he asked. Narcissa nodded. "She's harmless," Lucius claimed. Narcissa harrumphed and shook her head.

"Everything about her bearing told me that she'd been with my husband," she shared with him. Lucius squared his jaw and nodded. "You slept with her," Narcissa said. It wasn't an accusation. It was a fact, and she made certain that her voice made no question of it.

"You knew that," Lucius answered. "All through school…" Was he really trying to pull that? Did he think he was really going to get past her with such a claim?

"No," she countered. "I meant recently," she clarified. Lucius sat back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. He sighed heavily before looking back at her, nodding slowly.

"I would not use the term 'recent'," he said to her, "but your instincts are correct." Narcissa clenched her jaw and balled her hands into fists. She had already been certain that this was true, but there was something particularly horrible in hearing it spoken aloud.

"When?" she asked him quietly. Narcissa wasn't really sure she wanted to know, but there was something in her that made the question come out.

"She was the first," he answered her plainly. "Eighty-five, I think." Narcissa managed to look up at him. He looked almost unaffected, and it bugged her. It wasn't as though he had ever been terribly demonstrative, but at this moment he could surely have allowed some degree of distress to come to his face for her benefit. "Just the once," he added. "There was never more than once or twice with anyone."

"But it started with her?" Narcissa asked. Her mind was racing. It was nineteen eighty-five when it started; that was earlier than she had suspected, and it had been with a woman he had proposed marriage to at one point. Narcissa hated that. "With your old girlfriend?" she asked again.

"Are you jealous, Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked her. What a callous question. Her mouth agape, she frowned at him.

"How dare you tease me over such a thing," she said to him. "It's cruel."

"I meant no cruelty by it," he apologized. "I am merely surprised," he added.

"Why in the world would you be surprised by that?" she asked him, her voice more shrill and unpleasant than she would have chosen, but fully out of her control. Lucius leaned his elbows on his knees again and rested his head in his hands.

"You must remember, Narcissa," he said to her without looking up. "I have spent the last several years thinking that you cared very little if at all what I did. I have spent a great deal of time under the impression that you didn't give a damn what I did or who I spent my time with. You see, you have the upper hand here," he said to her.

"And how do you figure that?" she asked.

"Because I have done every rotten and unforgivable thing that you have suspected of me," he reminded her. "While you, on the other hand, have done nothing of the sort. You have been faithful to me, I believe that; but it's new information to me. I have lived for several years believing you to be as wicked as I, and I know now that I was wrong about it. Whereas your impression of me was correct and is unchanging, I am having to re-form an impression of you; one free of the blemish of infidelity."

"I see," she answered, nodding. It did make sense. She hadn't thought about that before; about how difficult it might be for Lucius to come to terms with the fact that the betrayals he had been so sure that she had committed against him were wholly untrue. "If it helps," she added, her lower lip beginning to tremble as she fought very hard to stop herself from crying. "I forgive you." Lucius shook his head and looked up at her.

"You shouldn't," he told her. "That first time…" He shut his eyes and sighed. Narcissa thought for a moment to stop him right there; but she was somehow sure that he needed to say whatever it was that he was trying to get out. "With Di," he continued. "Under the stairs in a seedy pub…. I knew right then I'd never forgive myself." Narcissa had to take a very slow and deep breath in order to keep from losing her composure right then. She knew that she had no desire to make Lucius suffer for his indiscretions. She also knew that he had suffered plenty at his own hand without her intervention.

Narcissa stood from her seat and went to him. The three steps it took to cross to him felt like miles as she went, but something inside of her told her that it was the right thing to do. She hadn't touched him of her own volition since this whole exercise began, and it had been several years prior to that. But in this minute she somehow could not think of anything else to do. Narcissa reached out to him, placing her hands on either side of his head. She waited for a moment for him to rebuff her, but to her surprise he did nothing of the sort.

He moved his hands from his face and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer to him. Narcissa sighed and held him as tightly as she could, stroking his soft hair as he clung to her. "I'm sorry, Cissa," he whispered to her. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. She felt a tear fall from her eye onto her cheek and could not be bothered to remove her hand from her husband to wipe it away. He had called her 'Cissa' again. It was a private moniker that no one else had ever used to address her, and a name that he only ever used with intimacy and with depth of feeling. And he had apologized to her; an uncommon thing in their relationship, and one she relished so greatly that she could hardly have described it.

She wondered for a minute as she laced her fingers through his hair if he was going to cry, but it occurred to her that he was likely too numb and too pensive. She kept her hands on him and allowed him to hold her for as long as he wanted to. She would gladly stay right here until the sun came up.

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Thanks to all of you who are reviewing, and again I ask your continued support… please let me know what you thought of this chapter and of how things are going and I'll have more Malfoys for you soon.

-MQ


	10. Offer Me Devotion

Narcissa slowly immersed herself in the steaming bath water and felt herself finally begin to relax. What a night it had been. She hadn't gotten the kiss from Lucius that she had set out for, but she had gotten an apology from him; and somehow that was even better. She fiddled with the bubbles on the surface of the water and imagined herself unhindered by the problems she was facing.

Narcissa knew deep down that it was best to air out all of the terrible things that she and Lucius had said and done that had hurt each other, but that didn't mean that she was enjoying it. She knew going into this process that it would be difficult; she'd had no fantasies of wine and roses. Narcissa didn't believe in faerie tales, and she knew that her knight in shining armor was no more than a fully fallible human being with whom she had very little in common anymore. But she did so want to make things work that she was willing to go through the pain that she knew would be coming and agree to try and work things out; figuring that it would be even more painful to let go of him forever.

And now she found herself questioning that decision. Hearing him admit to his betrayals of their marriage vows was almost more than she could take. Almost. She wanted to wave her wand and make all of this go away; to make them both cease hurting and just be happy again- as happy as they were a decade ago. And that was the thing that vexed her the most; it wasn't some nebulous happiness that she was longing for, it was their happiness, what she remembered their marriage having been like in the beginning. But even her wand had its limits, and she wondered after tonight's painful breakthrough just how much more of this she could take with her sanity intact.

And how many more of her husband's lovers would she have to run into at parties?

Lucius had seemed sincere in his apology and in the fact that he swore that he could never forgive himself. But she had forgiven him; she wasn't sure why it had been so easy to let go of his infidelity but it truly had. Narcissa wondered if it was just a case of love being blind or of foolish hope for there to be no more sequels to tonight's difficult exchange.

She had stood there in the living room with her arms around him until he had chosen to push her away. It was apparent to her in that moment that Lucius needed a moment to collect himself. Narcissa had quietly slipped out of the room and retreated into her bath. And now she reclined quietly against the marble tub, inhaling the scent of the aromatic bubbles that surrounded her and did all that she could to stop her brain from continuing its tumult.

There was a knock at the door that led into their living room. It had to be Lucius; there was no one else here who would be knocking. The house-elves just came and went as they needed without ever knocking, and Draco was away at school. "It's not locked," she called. Narcissa watched as the crystal doorknob turned and the door came open a few inches.

"Narcissa," Lucius called to her. She found the hesitation in his voice rather odd, but mostly she was curious as to why it was that he had knocked in the first place.

"You can come in, Lucius," she assured him. He pushed open the door and came a few steps into the room. Lucius nodded when he saw her in the bath and turned to shut the door behind him to keep the steam in. It pleased Narcissa a little that he had remembered how much she hated letting the steam out. Lucius leaned back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. He hung his head for a moment and then looked up at her as though he were struggling to find words.

"This can't happen again," he said to her. Narcissa frowned and sat up a little straighter in the tub. "Not yet," he added. "It kills me that you had to face that vulgar woman in public. I hate it that there are people who can look at you the way she looked at you tonight. Part of me wants to track the sorry hussy down and murder her for hurting you, but the rest of me remembers that I'm the one who hurt you and the fact that she was there for it is incidental at best. All of this has been my fault and, call me selfish; I cannot bear the idea of watching you have to smile politely to anyone who was part of what I did to you. Sometimes I cannot bear your smiles at all." He stood up straight and took a decisive step toward her. "I love you, Narcissa," he said very plainly. "I love you and no matter how awful I have behaved I have always loved you. There has never been anyone else- not anyone who mattered."

"You know I love you," she said back to him, turning to look him fully in the eye. Lucius nodded.

"And I should be thanking any deity that will listen for that blessing," he said to her. "And for this chance that we're getting to make things better," he added. "Narcissa," he sighed heavily before continuing. "Come away with me?" he implored.

"Away, Lucius?" she responded. "What for?" Lucius shook his head and sighed.

"Because we need to," he answered her. "Because we have so much to work on. There is so much that we have between us that needs to be dealt with that will be better done someplace where there aren't any bad memories… someplace that we run no risk of having something happen to us like happened tonight."

"We can't escape ourselves, Lucius," she reminded him. Narcissa truly thought that there was nowhere they could possibly go that would make any difference at all.

"I know that," he sighed, his head still shaking. "But I think it would be good for us to get away; someplace that's just us, with no old friends or old enemies, or bad memories of anything." He wiped his brow with both hands and sighed. "I don't expect you to understand, Narcissa," he told her. "Just say you'll come with me," he begged. "Please?"

"Alright," she agreed, however hesitantly. If Lucius needed to get away somewhere to feel like he was fully able to heal their marriage, then she was just going to have to take that on faith and agree to go with him wherever he would go. "Where will we go?" she asked; a fair enough question in her opinion. Lucius smiled at her. His smile was genuine and pleasant and Narcissa got the distinct feeling that she had just taken a great load off of his mind by agreeing to this trip.

"Did you know that the Soviet Union is no longer?" he asked her. His tone had changed instantly and he sounded almost jocular as he posed the question. Narcissa took the opportunity to leaven the mood further. She frowned at him and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Lucius," she teased, "I think I would have read it in the papers if a land mass of that size sank into the ocean." She grinned at him and waited for a response.

"You are a silly woman," he said to her. "Of course it has not sunk," he joked back. "But there was a coup a couple of years back, and that means that British wizards may travel there with very little encumbrance. I thought that you and I might go back to St. Petersburg; to that same palace where we spent our honeymoon. I want to go to the one place where I can be constantly reminded of how good things have been and of how much I have always loved you without coming across anything that would remind me of my actions to the contrary." Narcissa grinned even wider. If she had known that was his intention she wouldn't have even dreamt of challenging the idea.

"I'd love it," she told him. "A second honeymoon… it's perfect," she told him.

"Good," he affirmed with a single nod. "We'll leave first thing in the morning," he informed her. "I'll have Dobby pack your things." And at that he opened the door behind him and walked out. Narcissa shook her head and again reclined against the back of the marble tub.

St. Petersburg. A second honeymoon. Perfect.

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Must go buy luggage for my own honeymoon now. Good timing- huh? Thanks for all of the lovely reviews and, as always, I'll be back with more tomorrow :)

-MQ


	11. Stop and Wonder

The Palace where Lucius and Narcissa had spent their honeymoon was a place called Charadeya Karole. Simply stated, the name translated to 'wizard king'. This was a highly appropriate name for the palace, as it had once been the home of the bloodline that had ruled Wizarding Russia until the time of the Romanovs. The ruling magic family, the Golovkos, had chosen to abdicate in favor of the Bolsheviks that had been putting pressure on them for years. It wasn't widely known whether this happened before or after the last Muggle Czar had been overthrown, but the two dates did coincide quite closely. Since that time, the palace in which the now reclusive Golovkos had once made their primary residence had been a destination for the wealthiest vacationing witches and wizards who had managed to get leave of the Russian and then Soviet government to visit.

It had been quite the privilege for the newlywed Malfoys to have garnered an invitation to honeymoon at the Charadeya Karole. Abraxas Malfoy had likely greased a great many palms to make such a thing possible, but it had been worth every dime in Narcissa's opinion for them to have spent their honeymoon in such opulence and exclusivity. It was easier to get into the country these days, but it was obvious to Narcissa that it was just as much a privilege to stay in this palace as it ever had been.

And they had the place all to themselves. Narcissa wasn't sure if the proprietors would let rooms to more than one set of guests at a time, but it didn't matter- since Lucius had obviously arranged for them to once again be alone in the fifteen room residence. There was something wonderful and romantic about returning to the room where they had spent their first weeks as man and wife and Narcissa thrilled a little bit in every detail that had remained the same since the last time they'd been there.

Very little had changed, in fact. The colors and the appointments were exactly as they had been sixteen years prior. The upholstery hadn't changed, and neither had the lovely smells of spice and cedar and old leather that permeated the air and made the whole place just that more thrilling. Even the same decrepit old house-elf with the broken English and the thick accent was there to greet and to tend to them. They were settled into the room quickly and Narcissa took a moment to change her robes before they headed out for a bite of dinner.

It had been a long trip by train and by coach, and Narcissa was sure that they would want to retire soon. Lucius, however, seemed excited to be out on the town. They sidled up close to each other to help ward off the cool November air and Narcissa wasn't even the least bit tempted to tell Lucius that she wasn't cold. She was more than happy to let him keep his arm around her as they made their way through the wizarding parts of the city and eventually found their way into the café where they'd had breakfast on their first morning in the city when they had come so many years ago.

Lucius Malfoy was nothing if he was not thorough. He had arranged everything just so and Narcissa had no idea how he had managed it. He'd only had the idea of coming here last night; they'd left maddeningly early in the morning and he hadn't been out of her sight for more than a minute since they'd caught the seven a.m. train from London. And yet, Lucius had the staff at the café awaiting their arrival with some great enthusiasm. They were led into a private dining room at the back of the restaurant and seated in a plush red booth against the back wall.

They'd barely managed to speak to each other since their coach had met them at the train depot and Narcissa took the moment to finally say what was on her mind. "This was a wonderful idea, Lucius," she told him as she slipped her mink wrap from her shoulders and set it on the seat next to her along with her muff and hat.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he said back to her. Lucius turned to her and smiled; his real smile. Narcissa felt her expression change immediately when that smile crossed his face. That was the smile she had been willing to lose everything in order to give back to him. And now he was looking at her with that smile on his face. His eyes crinkled at the corners and Narcissa couldn't help but notice that this smile of his still made her as weak in the knees as it had when she was sixteen and only dreamt of ever winning his romantic attentions.

"I'm having a delightful time," she assured him. "But how did you manage to arrange all of this?" she asked.

"Magic," he answered her wryly. Narcissa rolled her eyes and chuckled at his answer. Magic may have had something to do with it, but there had to be something else to it.

"I suppose that's your subtle yet charming way of letting me know that you're not going to tell me?" she asked. Lucius grinned and nodded his head.

"If I were to divulge my secrets then I could no longer impress you," he offered. Narcissa shrugged.

"Or you'd have to come up with something new," she suggested.

"And why do that when the old tricks still work?" he joked.

"So you'd have me distracted this whole trip wondering just how it was that you managed to pull this whole thing off?" she asked, only half joking. Lucius had a maddening albeit delicious way of getting his way about things that amazed her to no end. And his outright refusal to let her in on his secrets caused her no small annoyance.

"You'll be too busy to be distracted," he informed her.

"Really?" she sang in reply, leaning closer to him and tilting her head flirtatiously at him. "You plan to keep me quite occupied while we're here?" she asked. Lucius leaned still closer to her and nodded his head.

"I do," he told her. "And do you really find me charming?" he asked, referencing her earlier comment.

"Oh, now Lucius," she teased, "You would have me admit to things that I would be better served by keeping to myself." She sighed demonstratively and averted her eyes before looking back at him. "But I would be lying if I said no," she added. Lucius chuckled and patted her on the arm.

"Good," he said to her. "Very good. And I intend to stay charming throughout the events of the remainder of the evening."

"Oh, Lucius," she said to him. "As much as I think that I'd love to stay up until dawn watching you be charming," she began; "I am already exhausted and I fear that I shall be asleep long before you get to your best material. Does it make me a terrible stick in the mud if I ask that you be charming tomorrow instead?" Lucius patted her arm again.

"Alright, pet," he agreed. "We shall go to sleep as soon as we've finished dinner. You'll be needing your rest," he told her. "We have a very early morning planned." Narcissa sighed pleasantly and grinned up at him. She wouldn't even try to get him to tell her what was in store for tomorrow. Narcissa liked surprises when she knew they were coming. And he had called her 'pet'; something he had only ever done when he was feeling particularly romantic.

This was going to be a splendid holiday.

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Luggage store a bust- now I have a problem. So I just HAD to get the Malfoys on their trip without incident. More tomorrow (it's after midnight here and I have to be up and at work in the morning). Reviews are better than new luggage…

-MQ


	12. I Like It, I Confess

Eight days. Eight blessed days they had been in this place. And they had seen the city in its new free glory; and it was a beautiful experience. They had been to the magical arts wing of the Hermitage and invited to tour and to dine in some of the new government's most opulent and most important ministries and residences.

How right Lucius had been about coming here. It had done both of them worlds of good to be in a place with so many wonderful memories about and only each other for company. Narcissa could sense the release of a tension that had built between them over the past several years. She'd had no real idea just how miserable a pair of people they had become until she began to see them emerging from the gloom they'd settled under and beginning to be truly happy again. They laughed together now, and they smiled at each other, and he held her hand as they strolled the promenades and explored the shops in new Wizarding Russia. She hadn't been given a proper kiss yet, but more than one time he had come awfully close. Narcissa knew that it was only a matter of time now before everything got back to a level of near perfection that she would recognize from the early years of their marriage.

Narcissa was even sleeping better. Her routine had been the same for so long back home. She would go to bed early and fall asleep almost straight away, as she spent most of her day rather exhausted. Lucius would then join her in the bed quite late, sometimes not until three a.m. or after. His coming to bed usually woke her, and she had long since given up on getting right back to sleep when this happened, so she would rise as soon as she was sure he'd drifted off and go about doing all manner of things. Hours later, often just in time for Lucius to be waking to begin his day, she would slip back between the sheets and sleep for another hour or so. It was a dysfunctional routine, but it had functioned for her well enough to have remained the rule for several years.

But here in St. Petersburg, Lucius had begun to retire just after she had. Sometimes he had even been waiting for her under the covers when she had returned from her evening bath. Perhaps the fact that there was no disturbance at two in the morning could be thanked for her newfound ability to sleep through most nights, but she thought more that it merely the ability to fully relax. Tonight, however, something had awoken her after midnight.

It was a familiar although unpleasant feeling that had turned her stomach and caused her to rouse. She wondered what was troubling whom in the vicinity to affect this unintentional distress on her. Narcissa had an undeveloped gift for Legillimency; a side-effect of which being that she was occasionally tuned in to thoughts or feelings of those nearby quite by accident. This had been the cause of more than one night of missed sleep in school, where emotional crises permeated the girls' dormitories as a near constant.

She'd tried at first to block out whatever it was and go back to sleep, but sleep had not come and so she had risen quietly, slipped her dressing gown over her shoulders, and seated herself at the little writing desk in the corner of their room to pen a few lines to Draco. There had only been one previous night in St. Petersburg during which she had found herself unexpectedly awake, and she had done the same thing then. Draco's letters to them had become fewer as November had worn on and she could only hope that it was because he had less to complain about and was enjoying himself so much as to not want to miss any fun by taking the time to write his parents. She had seen to it before they had left for Russia that the house-elves continued sending baskets and boxes of sweets to Hogwarts, and Narcissa could at least be sure that was going smoothly enough; she'd certainly have heard about it if it had not.

As she pressed her wax seal into the parchment to fasten the letter, she could hear Lucius beginning to stir. She turned her head just in time to see him beginning to toss madly beneath the covers. He let out a scream that could only be described as blood-curdling and then a moan that sounded like he was in some great degree of pain. Narcissa sprung from her chair and dashed to the bedside. She climbed up onto the bed and scrambled across the tousled blankets to his side. Deftly, she placed her hands on him, one on his cheek and the other on his shoulder, to try and rouse him gently.

At least she knew now whose unconscious distress had woken her. Lucius had always been prone to nightmares. There were years during which he would wake up in a cold sweat or when she would find him avoiding their bed altogether lest the terror return to him. It had been a long time since she had seen anything approaching this, though. She had to wonder how many episodes like this one she may have missed in the nights she had abandoned their bed for a book or a plate of ice cream as soon as he had fallen asleep. Narcissa suddenly felt very guilty for having abandoned him to whatever his sleep might inflict for so long.

"Lucius," she whispered, leaning close enough to him so that he could hear her over his fretting. "Lucius, darling, wake up," she encouraged, this time a little louder. "Wake up," she repeated. "Lucius?" she said again as his expression changed. His eyes flew open and he gasped for air, sitting up part way and shaking his head. "It was only a dream," she assured him when he looked back at her.

"Cissa?" he said, as though he wasn't believing his eyes.

"Yes, love," she answered. "You were dreaming," she told him. Lucius nodded his head and tried to slow his breathing. He was shaking all over. Narcissa settled herself against the pillows at the head of the bed and pulled him to her. She waited for him to resist, but to her pleasant surprise, he came into her embrace willingly and took hold of her as though she were the only thing keeping him awake and away from whatever had just been attacking. She held his head to her chest; one arm around his shoulders and the other about his head, stroking his hair. She pressed her chin to his forehead and took several deep breaths, hoping to calm him. He clung to her as he lay there; his hands gripped her sides as though he were afraid of her slipping away. She would likely have bruises in the morning from where his fingers held so desperately to her, but there was nothing in heaven or on earth that would make her try and get him to lessen his hold.

Narcissa moved her hand from his hair to pull the blankets up around his shoulders as she began to feel some of the tension beginning to leave him. "You're alright," she assured him as she settled the covers over him. Narcissa bent her face down to kiss her husband's clammy forehead before returning her hand to his thick mane of hair and holding his head to her chest again. "Tell me what it was about?" she asked him. She never pushed him to share the content of these awful dreams with her, but sometimes he had. In the past she had needed only to let him know that she was willing to hear, and occasionally he had opened up.

"Cold," was all he said back to her this time.

"Well," she whispered, still petting him. "You're warm now," she assured. "And safe. I've got you." Lucius sighed and nuzzled his head against her. He felt so good in her arms; she loved the feeling of his breath against her neck and of the bare skin of his muscular back as she gently ran her fingers along his spine. If given a choice she would keep him there forever.

Narcissa hated herself a little for it, but she had to admit that she was glad for his nightmares. This moment- the opportunity to offer him comfort; this was something she knew no one else to have ever been given. None of the two-bit strumpets he'd used to vent his frustrations upon had held him like this. He would never have allowed it, of that she was most certain. These moments of unguarded vulnerability were hers and hers alone and as much as it disturbed her to be pleased at his being so terrified, she knew that she truly was.

She could only hope that he would fall asleep like this before he had a chance to remember himself and roll back over. He was very 'Malfoy' about even his sleeping and she knew that these moments were as fleeting as they were brief. She figured he thought it a weakness to seek any comfort at all. And never, in all of the nights they had spent like this, had they ever spoken of it in daylight. Her moment with him in her arms would be over far too soon, and she braced herself for its end even as she tried her best to prolong it.

"_My_ love," she whispered to him; making audible her feeling of possessing this moment. Lucius sighed into her again. His fingers relaxed their death-grip on her sides, but his hands did not move. She could feel his breaths evening out; he was falling asleep. She laced her fingers through his hair as she smiled to herself, settling her body against him to find sleep there as well.

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This chapter is dedicated to the magnificent Gothicfae1989 who will likely never read this. However; this entire chapter was inspired by a post she made to the SS Icicle at Fictionalley in which she stated that "Only Narcissa knows that Lucius has nightmares".

Things are getting good now. Hmmm… more fun later. Review please???

-MQ


	13. Shines Always in the Glance

Narcissa was awoken from a peaceful night's sleep by the covers being violently yanked off of her. The blankets were ripped from the bed with enough force to cause her to spring to wakefulness with an audible squeak. She sat bolt upright and worked to catch her breath before looking over at her laughing husband. Lucius had the blankets in his hands and a maddeningly mischievous grin on his face. "Time to get up," he declared. Narcissa chuckled and shook her head. She lunged toward him and tried her best to grab the blankets from his hand, but he was too fast for her and managed to step away just in time for her to miss. She knew it was no use trying to get the covers back, so she gave up and flopped herself back down onto her pillows.

"Lucius," she groaned, still hoping to go back to sleep. "What time is it?" she asked. Lucius set the blankets on the floor at the foot of the bed and seated himself next to her.

"Time for my wife to get out of bed," he informed her. Narcissa had no idea what time it was, but it was early enough that she could scarcely believe how chipper and well put together Lucius seemed to be. It amazed her how he always managed to look perfect; even first thing in the morning, and even when she knew for a fact that he hadn't gotten a terribly good night's sleep. The sun was coming in the window and his hair was positively gleaming in the light that streamed in through the sheers. Even his smile seemed to shine in the early morning sunlight. As attractive as it made him look, Narcissa still found it infuriating. Lucius was damnably handsome, but he was equally damnable in his ability to be wide awake and glistening like gold while all she wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"Do I have to?" she asked, flashing her very best early morning attempt at puppy-dog eyes. Lucius shook his head and chuckled at her.

"Well played, pet," he told her. "But your beautiful blue eyes have no effect on me. We have a schedule to keep to today."

"A schedule?" she asked. "Lucius, I don't remember any schedule…"

"Of course not," he allowed. "If I had apprised you of the schedule it would have spoiled the surprise."

"The surprise?" she repeated, questioning.

"Yes, Narcissa," he answered her with a feigned incredulity that made her want to hit him with a pillow. "I have a surprise for you, but you must get out of bed. If you're not up and dressed soon then I shall drag you out of the house in your nightgown." Narcissa looked down at the white satin shift she had on and then back at her husband.

"You would do no such thing," she said. But the look on his face at the moment was just mischievous enough to make her think twice about being so sure. Perhaps he would put her out on the lawn in her nightgown. Lucius had been known to do things that were totally unexpected, and it seemed no great stretch to Narcissa that he might be willing to do just that. She shook her head and scooted herself to the edge of the bed, turning and sliding until her feet touched the ground. "Coffee?" she asked. Lucius smiled and stood from where he had seated himself at the edge of the bed. He took a few steps toward the writing desk and pointed to a large and steaming mug that sat there.

"Coffee," he informed her. "And I got your letter off to Draco," he added, gesturing to the spot on the desk where she'd left the recently sealed letter the previous night when Lucius' nightmare had interrupted her.

"Thank you," she said to him. Narcissa crossed to sit at the desk and picked up the ceramic mug. She inhaled deeply and then took a sizeable swallow of the lovely brown liquid.

"But you have to hurry, Narcissa," he reminded her. "I have let you sleep too long as it is."

"I assure you that you have not," she countered, a joking scowl greeting him over her coffee. "But since you have set a schedule for us without informing me, and since I am such a pleasant and agreeable person, I shall hurry myself in order to comply with your plans." She smiled up at him and took another sip of her coffee, trying her best to make sure that he would know better than to laugh at her self assessment.

"You are the most pleasant company I could imagine," he said to her, bowing his head enough to convey that he was only being a little bit facetious. First thing in the morning after she hadn't a decent night's sleep and had been awoken prior to her own inclinations to wake was not her most pleasant period.

"Will you at least tell me enough about our plans so that I'll know what to wear?" she asked him, allowing herself a yawn as she set her coffee cup back on the desk. Lucius crossed his arms over his chest and stealthily took his wand from the pocket of his waistcoat and flicked it gently.

The armoire to Narcissa's right sprung open and she sat forward in her seat to look at what hung just on the inside of the door. "You'll wear this," Lucius told her, gesturing to the lovely winter white robes before her. Narcissa was enthralled. He hadn't bought her robes as a gift since Draco was a tiny baby and these looked absolutely divine.

If Narcissa had to guess, the whole garment was made of some heavenly blend of cashmere and angora. The skirt was tiered, with three flounces of the soft and fluffy fabric tied up with camel-colored grosgrain ribbons. The bodice of the dress was fitted and it had a raised bateau neckline and dozens of tiny buttons down the front. There was a fur stole and a muff, both in the same color as the tiny bows on the skirt, and a bonnet with feathers along one side that matched both the ivory and the camel color.

"How in the world did you manage…?" Narcissa couldn't even get the whole question out; the look on her husband's face showed just how satisfied with himself he was at the moment and it was positively infuriating. Truly, though, she really did have no idea how it was that he managed to somehow purchase an entire new suit of clothes for her and have them in her armoire without her having any trace of a clue that he had done so. It wasn't the first time he had managed to surprise her thusly; it wasn't even the first time on this trip, but still it was maddening how he always managed to leave her dumbfounded at his ability to accomplish things.

"So the gift meets with your approval, then?" he asked. Narcissa was completely sure that he was well aware of how lovely she found the outfit. He knew her taste; and his own taste was nothing less than impeccable. And on top of that, Lucius Malfoy rarely asked a question without already knowing the answer.

"Lucius, it's lovely," She told him, standing to touch the fabric of her beautiful new robes.

"I'm glad you like it," he said to her. "Now put the blasted dress on and let's get going," he urged.

"If your idea is to stay up here and keep on me to hurry, I warn you that likely the outcome will be merely that you distract me to undue delay," she told him. Lucius frowned thoughtfully and studied her. Perhaps he did realize that she could have been brushing her teeth or styling her hair all this time that she had instead spent chatting with him.

"I suppose you have a point," he allowed. "Here we sit having a conversation when you could be putting on your robes and your shoes and allowing us to get back on schedule."

"Right," she affirmed, taking the dress from where it hung and placing it across the bed. "So of you want me to be ready sooner rather than later, then I suggest you keep quiet."

"I shall wait for you in the parlor," he told her. Lucius inclined his head toward her for a moment and then reached for the doorknob and opened the door. "But don't dawdle," he instructed before stepping through the door. Narcissa shook her head and rolled her eyes at him lest he look over his shoulder at her. Narcissa was not one to 'dawdle' under any circumstances, and she would be ready when she was ready.

She quickly made her way through her morning ablutions and then managed to dress herself in an equal hurry. She clasped tiny diamonds into her ears and fastened her favorite brooch to her lapel; watching it form itself into the shape of a daisy before donning her stole, which covered the brooch, but would serve to keep her warm in the cool Russian November.

Narcissa put her hair up well enough and pinned her new bonnet in place. She used her wand to fasten the buttons on her shoes and then studied herself in the mirror for a moment before heading out the door and down the stairs. The robes fit perfectly, and the colors of the fur and the feathers were quite pretty against her fair skin and golden hair.

Narcissa loved the way the soft fibers of the fabric felt against her skin as she descended the stairs to meet Lucius in the parlor. She wondered what it was that he had in store for them that made it so terribly important that she got out of bed when he demanded. It was about two thirds of the way down the stairs that Narcissa came to a decision; no matter his plans for the day, if Lucius did not kiss her before the sun was down she would take the lead and kiss him herself.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Glad I got this up… It was another case of having to either wait and have a very long chapter or go ahead and post this as a chapter in and of itself…so I posted it since y'all seem to prefer something over nothing. I will have at least one tomorrow (after midnight now Seattle time) and then Monday night late (Louisiana time) will be the next chapter. I plan to write on the plane all day Monday (and I even know what I'm doing if I get to the end of this one) so that you all will have reading material. Remember that reviews will keep me warm at night…

And for those of you who are following my real life saga, I got my dress and veil today and I'm almost all packed. I'm getting married 1 week from today!! EEK!!

-MQ


	14. And Gaze Intently At Him

What a glorious morning! Narcissa was glad from the moment they stepped out of their villa that Lucius had insisted she awaken and enjoy it. It had frozen overnight, and a fine sheen of ice still glistened upon everything as the morning sunlight greeted them. He had led her down a winding path behind the residence and through a series of manicured lawns and wooded greens to a place where a blanket and picnic breakfast had been laid out. They'd shared breads and cheeses and blintzes and yoghurt and tiny little jellied fruit candies the name of which Lucius had managed to forget. There was tea and coffee, rosewater and pumpkin juice. It was one of the better breakfasts Narcissa could recall from her life.

Narcissa never failed to be impressed by the things that her husband managed to arrange. She wondered just how long he had been up this morning getting all of this together, but she knew that he would never confess to more than a moment's passing fancy; as though his mere will had made all of this appear. Lucius was a great wizard to be sure, but even magic had its limits in practicality. The fact of the matter was that Lucius Malfoy did nothing in half measures; including romantic holidays, and as abysmal a trait as that could be sometimes; when he was being romantic it suited her just fine.

Even her exquisite new robes had an additional surprise inside. She discovered as soon as she stepped out into the icy November morning that Lucius had charmed the impressive garments to keep her warm outdoors. Everything about this day seemed to have been perfectly planned and Narcissa couldn't help but love every detail of it.

After breakfast, Lucius had walked her to the far side of the hill where they'd picnicked. Narcissa had no idea that they'd been so near to the river. There was a tiny rowboat waiting for them at the bottom of the hill and Lucius had offered her his hand to help her aboard before climbing in and settling himself opposite her. With a flick of his wand, they were off downstream, the oars rowing them down the center of the icy water as though the boat itself knew they way to where they were going.

Narcissa gazed across the short distance at her smiling husband. He looked exceedingly handsome in his November tweeds, with his ruffled shirt and bowler hat in browns and grays that made his eyes look just the color of the sky as a storm was brewing. Narcissa could actively feel herself falling a little more in love with him every minute they were together. It was odd to her, really; the idea that she could love him any more than she already did. And she wondered if perhaps she were not falling further into love but rather remembering the depths to which her feelings for him went after years of trying her best to forget. And it also occurred to her to imagine that he was rediscovering the same depth of feeling; although it was no comfort to her hopes that he hadn't even attempted to get close to her physically since the whole practice of reconciling started.

And how many years had it been since they'd made love? Narcissa couldn't even remember properly when that had happened. She recalled his passion for her waning slowly, but could scarcely recall just when he had stopped touching her altogether. Perhaps he just didn't find her attractive. That sort of thing had been known to happen with couples who had been married as long as they, although it seemed to Narcissa that he'd recently said enough things to the contrary that a lack of attraction to her was likely not the case at all. As the boat continued on its way, he was regarding her closely, and she wondered what he might be thinking; of he was perhaps considering any of the things that were so weighing on her mind this morning. When he leaned toward her, she could only hope that he was thinking to kiss her. After all, that was what she'd been thinking for days.

Lucius scooted himself forward on his seat and reached his hands out to her, sliding them inside of her muff to take her hands in his. "Are you quite alright, pet?" he asked her. Narcissa started a bit. She had a bad habit of forgetting herself when contemplating something as deep and important as why her husband hadn't thought to kiss her, and apparently her wonder and concern was all over her face for him to see. Lucius had always been able to read even her most subtle expressions and she wondered in this moment if she looked like a complete fool sitting there with some vacant expression of bewilderment. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

That was a clear sign to Narcissa that he knew she was thinking about something she found particularly unpleasant and an indication that he was not likely to ease up on questions to her until she had spilled it entirely. Narcissa shrugged and tried her best to smile at him. Not that any pleasant face could save her from having to come clean to him in the near future; but she did want to make certain that he was fully aware of how much she was enjoying the boat ride and the company.

"There is something," she admitted, squeezing both of his hands inside her muff. "We promised we'd be honest with each other," she reminded herself out loud. "I was just thinking…" How to say this…?

"What is it, pet?" he encouraged. Narcissa swallowed hard and then continued.

"Why did you stop touching me?" she asked. As she spoke, she couldn't bear to look at him, but once the words were out she managed to lift her eyes to meet his gaze. Lucius was shaking his head, his lips pursed and his eyes shifting.

"I don't remember," he told her.

"Oh," she said back. "Well, alright," she allowed, her face showing clear disappointment and her voice letting in an equal amount. "I suppose if you don't…"

"If I had to guess," he interrupted her. She stopped talking and looked him in the eye. "Based on what I do remember," he added. "I'd say that I had spent so much energy trying not to feel bad that I managed to make it to where I couldn't feel anything at all. I was numb," he explained. Narcissa nodded her head but chose not to say anything just yet, as she could tell that he was likely to continue if she let him. "I think that's how it started," he affirmed. "And then," he went on. "After that…" Lucius sighed heavily and squeezed her hands. "I knew I was hurting you," he told her. "I knew and yet I felt entirely powerless to do anything about it. I couldn't help but be the way I was; not then. And that made it harder to reach out to you once I wanted to again. I didn't deserve you," he said. "I never really did, but I knew that I had hurt you more than I ever thought I could, so I couldn't come to you when I was ready to try and be human again. I wanted to, but I couldn't. And then…" he shook his head and sighed again. "I thought you had found comfort somewhere else," he shared. "I hated it, but I thought it was what I deserved after the bastard that I had been for those years. And I dared not press the issue. You had your life; I had made my own proverbial bed and so there I lay." He looked her in the eye and allowed a sad smile to come to his face. "I would like to think that I was being noble," he told her. "But truly; I was a coward."

"You've not a cowardly bone in your body," she countered. "And I do not entertain for a moment the idea that your conduct toward me was rooted in cowardice. You are a strategist, Lucius," she reminded him. "You never strike until you are quite sure the iron is hot- so to speak. This is why you have been so successful; you know when opportunity is and is not knocking. You knew just when to broach the subject with me of trying to work things out. I think we both know that had you done so at another moment, your proposition may have fallen upon deaf ears. I learned very well how to shut myself down in the years we barely spoke, and had you thought to wish me capable of feelings at the wrong time, we would not be sitting here now."

"You give me more credit than I deserve," he said to her. Narcissa smiled and shook her head.

"No," she countered. "Just because you don't see it doesn't mean you're not deserving."

"You're too kind, Narcissa," he said to her, beginning to recover the smile he'd worn before her need to confess her ill ease. She thought to lean over and kiss him properly then and there, but before she could get herself to move she felt the boat take a sharp turn ninety degrees to starboard, tossing both of them sideways enough that they grabbed to each other to keep from falling overboard.

"Lucius," Narcissa said nervously as the boat began gaining speed toward the riverbank. "Are you quite sure that this boat is doing what it's supposed to do?" She didn't want to sound sassy, and she in no way meant any insult by her need to question him at this moment. However, the little wooden boat that they were sitting in was headed straight for a rocky and tree-lined mud riverbank and it was making her ever so unsettled.

"Have faith, my dearest," he assured her. "This only means we're getting close."

"Close?" Narcissa asked as the boat continued to pick up speed.

"To where we're going," he told her. Narcissa nodded and held to his hands a little tighter. The boat continued to speed toward the riverbank and Narcissa braced herself for impact. But just as she was convinced that they were about to hit rocks and spill themselves against the shore, the riverbank and its accompanying trees gave way and they found themselves on a tiny tributary that had been fully obscured behind the trees and rocks.

Narcissa looked around at the well groomed Asiatic garden into which they had floated. There was a pier just ahead of them to the starboard, and just past it, a tiny stone foot bridge passed from one side of the stream to the other. On the opposite side of the water, a gentle hill sloped upward, on top of which stood a four-portioned gazebo with minarets over each of its lobes. And it seemed the entire place was as white as pure driven snow. The water around them was filled with ice floes ranging in size from that of a snitch to that of a large teapot and the grounds glistened with the white of the ice that had formed there over night. "Oh it's spectacular!" Narcissa exclaimed, turning her head to examine the icicle-laded trees that lay just past the pier as they pulled up to it.

"It was the Golovkos'," Lucius informed her. "Their private garden," he clarified. "The only was in was the way we came; in this boat, through those trees. You can see the sea from the top of that hill," he told her, pointing to the gazebo. Narcissa smiled and stood as Lucius withdrew his hands from her muff and stepped from the boat onto the pier. The boat efficiently tied itself to the little pier as Narcissa stepped out as well. Lucius offered his arm to her and she gladly took it, following him as he began walking toward the little foot bridge.

There were vines and flowers and plants of all sorts hanging above their heads, some from the long branches of the trees and others seemed to be hanging by nothing at all. Narcissa couldn't place a single one of the plants or trees in this garden, and every bit of it was covered with a shining veneer of ice. "How did you know this was here?" she asked. This place was completely fantastic, and she had no idea how it was that it had been here sixteen years ago and yet they were just now discovering it. It was lovely here and it was doubly lovely that Lucius had thought to bring her somewhere new and so wonderful on this trip.

The two of them walked slowly over the frost-covered ground and toward the little bridge. "The last time we were in the area this place was being kept a secret from the Soviets," he told her as they went. "But now, those who own and keep these grounds are open to inviting people who they deem worthy of the invitation."

"And we qualified," she commented. Lucius nodded and patted her hand.

"By virtue of our staying at the Charadeya Karole for as long as we are," he told her. "I think they're making enough profit off of us to see to it that we have a pleasant enough time to make us want to come again."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll want to come back again," she agreed. Lucius nodded as he took a step away from her. He took the hand that had been over his arm and held it as he took a small step out in front of her. As they reached the bridge, Lucius stepped onto it first and then tried to steady her by her hand as she stepped onto the slick stones. The bridge was only wide enough for one of them at a time to cross, so Lucius kept hold of her hand behind him as they began across the little span.

"Careful," he warned her. "It's icy."

"I can see that," she said to him with a barely stifled nervous giggle. Narcissa followed him as far as the center of the bridge before she lost her footing for the first time and slipped on the ice. Lucius caught her immediately and spun her around in his arms. Narcissa would up on the far side of the bridge from where she'd started and she found herself clinging nervously to Lucius as she tried to feel steady on her feet again. The both of them laughed softly as she looked up at him, a tiny blush rising to her cheeks at her clumsiness.

"I told you it was slippery," he said to her.

"I appreciate your concern," she said to him, not backing away in the slightest. Lucius squeezed her to him for a moment. "I'm alright now, though; since you asked. Let's keep going, I bet the view from up there is beautiful." She went to turn and keep walking, but found herself unable, as Lucius' arms were still around her. He tilted his head down toward her.

"It can't be any more beautiful than my view is right now," he told her. Narcissa felt her cheeks flush fully, and she had to fight the impulse to lower her head. She did avert her eyes for an instant, and it was in that blink of an eye that she missed what was happening.

Before she was able to realize that the moment had finally arrived, he was kissing her. He was kissing her the way she remembered him kissing her and the way she had dreamt of him kissing her for all of the years since the last time he had kissed her. His lips were soft and sweet and wonderful and she gladly opened her mouth to allow him to kiss her fully and deeply. And she fervently kissed him back, her tongue fighting with his for position and her breath catching in her throat as she hungrily met his mouth's intensity with her own. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled his face toward hers, defying him to break the kiss before she was ready. For his part, Lucius kept one hand around her waist and the other on the back of her neck, holding her lips to his just as she held him to her.

It was the kiss that she had been waiting for, and it was entirely worth the wait. Narcissa felt something infinitesimal and yet definite passing between them as their mouths continued to remember each other. Something that had been broken was finally whole in that moment and Narcissa was certain that Lucius could feel it as well as she did.

Minutes passed before either of them was willing to cease. It occurred to Narcissa that she had just had a well and proper snog with her husband as though they were a couple of randy teenagers, but it didn't really occur to her to care. This place was plenty private, and she secretly hoped that they might continue with this line of activity once they reached the gazebo on the top of the hill. When they did break the kiss, Narcissa stepped back from him ever so slightly to adjust her bonnet. Lucius also moved back a step and saw to taking his now very askew hair out of its leather band. Narcissa giggled at the two of them; they were acting like a couple of teenagers. Only now they were acting as though someone might see them and catch on to what they had been up to.

Narcissa shook her head and grinned up at Lucius. "Shall we continue to the overlook?" she asked him, trying to sound as unaffected and cordial as her blissful mood would allow.

"Lead the way," Lucius allowed, gesturing for her to go ahead of him. In the thrill of the moment, Narcissa had forgotten that she was now on the far side of the bridge and that it was now her prerogative to set the crossing pace. She nodded to Lucius and turned to begin the short walk the rest of the way across the bridge.

Perhaps it was her thrill at the fresh memory of the kiss, or perhaps it was just innate clumsiness, or perhaps even it was simply a bit of bad luck; but Narcissa hadn't the time to analyze just what had caused her to slip. All she knew of the mishap as it occurred was that in one instant she had turned her head to smile at Lucius behind her, and in the next she found herself quite off balance.

The entire world seemed to stall itself into slow motion as Narcissa began to feel herself falling. She tried to get her balance, and she caught a tiny glimpse of Lucius reaching to steady her, but before she had a chance to right herself, and before he was able to reach her, Narcissa found herself in the icy water beneath the bridge. The water was so cold that it felt as though icy shards were stabbing her over every inch of her skin. She could feel the water moving around her, pulling her underneath the bridge, and a current that was trying to sweep her under the surface. Her heavy, waterlogged skirts were weighing her down and as hard as she tried, she could not keep her head above the water. Narcissa flailed and fought until she felt herself slipping beneath the swift water. She struggled for breath as she tried again and again to reach the surface, but she had never been a strong swimmer, and the icy cold water was keeping her body from doing as she wished it to.

The last thing that she was aware of was the sight of ice floes on the surface filling in the space that she had fallen through.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hey all- thanks for the lovely words of review that continue to come in even as I am posting slower and slower. Tomorrow will maybe see another chapter in the middle of the day, but I can at least promise you one in 24 hours or less. Tomorrow is 'all day on the airplane' day, so I will have lots of time with a glass of wine (or juice) and my laptop for writing. I love having a story to write- it takes my mind of wedding planning and keeps the evil bridezilla at bay. –grins-!!

-MQ


	15. I Can't Help It

Written in the sky somewhere between Seattle and Minneapolis and posted at the Minneapolis Airport!

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Cold. Soft? Narcissa's hands reached out for something, but her fingers found only the cool softness of the sheets and blankets which surrounded her on all sides. She tried to sit up and found that she was unable, comforters and coverlets were tucked so tightly around her shoulders that she found herself wholly unable to move. Suddenly she became aware of voices in the room with her. Someone was speaking, but she didn't understand anything that was being said.

"What the hell is he saying?" she finally caught. It was Lucius' voice. Lucius was here.

"He say was close call," an answer came in a thick and squeaky Russian accent. The foreign tongue continued as this higher pitched voice spoke over it. "He say was smart for to use Imperious curse make her breathe. He say was quick thinking- save her life. Say lady be ok now. Say to keep her warm and give to red potion if coughing and call to hospital if can not feeling hands or feet. Say lady be ok. Is ok." Both unrecognizable voices ceased in unison as Narcissa struggled to open her eyes.

She was back at the Charadyea Karole. She was in the same bed she'd been sleeping in for weeks. The last thing she remembered was drowning and now she was here. Her mind began to come clear around her as her eyes managed to focus on her surroundings. She saw Lucius close the bedroom door, out of which had just walked a tall and slender man with dark hair who Narcissa could only guess to be a healer and the house-elf named Pteechka who served them here.

"Lucius?" Narcissa called softly to her husband. He looked a wreck. He was in his dressing gown and a pair of green cashmere lounging trousers, his hair was tied back in such a way that it appeared to her as though he had fastened it without benefit of a looking glass, and his whole demeanor seemed uncharacteristically disheveled. A sweet smile crossed his face when he turned and looked at her.

"Hello, pet," he greeted her, crossing the short distance to sit beside her on the bed. Narcissa struggled with the blankets and managed with little difficulty to free her right hand. She turned her head toward Lucius and reached her hand out to take his. He took her hand gladly, kissing her knuckles and then her palm before placing his other hand on top of hers.

"What happened?" she asked him. Her memory of the past… how long had it been…? No matter; her memory of recent events was hazy at best and she hoped that Lucius would enlighten her as to exactly what had occurred.

"You slipped on the ice," he reminded her.

"And I fell in the river," she added her won recollection.

"That's right," Lucius affirmed, his hold on her hand becoming tighter. "And I got you out," he told her. Narcissa smiled at her husband. Very few times in her life had she ever been in need of rescue, and somehow it seemed as though he was always there to stand between her and disaster.

"Thank you," she said to him. Lucius shook his head and frowned.

"Don't thank me, Narcissa," he said to her. "I had to resort to some rather unsavory tactics to make sure you would be alright until I could get you back here and send for the Healer." Narcissa nodded.

"I overheard something about the Imperious curse?" she mentioned. Lucius nodded his head.

"You weren't breathing," he told her. "And there was no time… I couldn't think of anything else. I only wish that I could have come up with a more honorable way to go about things." Narcissa kept her smile and shook her head slightly.

"Lucius," she said to him softly. "Darling, do you think for even an instant that I hold any ill will against you at all for that?" Lucius sighed and reached took one hand from hers moving to stroke her cheek.

"No," he allowed. "You forgive me for everything," he added; "whether or not I deserve it."

"My forgiveness is not for you to earn, Lucius," she said to him. "It is for me to give how and when I choose. And the way I see it, there is nothing even to be forgiven. I am no longer drowning and am instead safe and warm and in my nightgown tucked soundly into bed; and it is all your doing. There is nothing dishonorable about doing whatever is necessary to avoid calamity. You saved my life, Lucius, and I am grateful for it." Lucius squeezed her hand and bent over to kiss her on her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her. Narcissa considered for a second.

"Cold," she admitted after a pause. Lucius stood and let go of her hand.

"I think I can help with that," he told her. Narcissa followed him with her eyes as he walked around to his side of the bed and divested himself of his dressing gown and trousers. In only his gray silk boxer shorts, he lifted a corner of the blankets and slid himself in to the bed next to her. Lucius sidled up behind her and placed his chin on her shoulder, pressing his warm chest against her back and wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Mmm," Narcissa sighed. "That feels good," she told him. It was true; he hadn't held her like this in ages and the feeling of his warm skin next to hers was delightful. And Narcissa had to admit to herself that the proximity of so much of Lucius' bare skin was inciting inclinations with her that she never would have associated with having nearly drowned an hour ago.

She wrapped her arms around his and pulled herself as close to him as she could. It was barely a moment before she felt a feather light kiss land on the base of her neck. "You scared me to death today, pet," he said to her. "I got a few minutes glimpse of my life without you and…"

"Shhh," she stopped him. "I'm not going anywhere," she informed him, turning her head far enough to see his eyes. Narcissa smiled at her husband and leaned her face toward him, capturing his lips with her own before he had time to say anything further. She turned in his arms to face him fully, leaning her head up so as not to lose contact with his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again; insistently this time, allowing herself to move her hips in to his and sliding one leg up above his knees. She was acting more brazen and forward that she had any real right to at this juncture in their reconciliation, but she hadn't the mental acuity at the moment to fight the urges her body was insisting she act upon.

Narcissa could feel his breathing changing and she could only hope that he was becoming as incited by this as she was. When she pulled him still closer and began to feel the heated pressure of his erection against her thigh, she knew that he was. She ran her hands over his sides, taking in the feeling of every muscle in his chiseled physique. Her hands found the elastic as his waist and she slid her fingers just beneath the silk to further encourage his reactions.

His hands moved from her back to her sides to her breasts to her hair and back again; he seemed to want to touch her everywhere all at once and Narcissa felt both thrilled and maddened every time his fingers went from one incendiary spot to another. His lips left hers and traveled down her neck, nipping and sucking on every inch of skin that he could get his mouth around. And then he kissed her again; hot and hard, in a way that made her toes curl and her fingers tighten around the silk of his drawers. His mouth moved from hers again and Narcissa was barely able to catch her breath.

She wanted him; she wanted him more than she could ever remember wanting anything. She feared that this was going to stop; that he would momentarily remember himself and decide that this was wrong somehow. It had taken him so long even to kiss her that the idea of this reaching its natural conclusion was almost too much to hope for.

"Make love to me, Lucius," she whispered, lest he be thinking to hesitate. Her words seemed to be all the encouragement that he needed. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and shifted them both just enough so that he was on top of her. Narcissa grabbed hold of the soft silk of his boxers and pushed them from his hips, then with her feet she managed to work them the rest of the way off of him. As she was removing his pants, she felt his hands beneath her nightgown, pulling it up around her waist and then settling his grip on her hipbones. She wondered for a moment if he had been hoping for just this activity when he had chosen not to put any knickers on her when he changed her from her wet robes. No matter, the decision was working well to her advantage as she felt his deft fingers caressing her hips and his fevered hardness pressing closely to her.

Narcissa gasped as she felt him suddenly inside of her. She hadn't remembered anything could feel so good as this moment. His body was firm and warm and his mouth never abandoned her lips and face and neck as he began to move against her. She arched her back and echoed his motion with her own. They moved together; slowly at first, and then with a swift graduation of intensity that left her heart pounding in her ears and her breath all but gone from her.

She reveled in his affections. Her body remembered every nuance of him; every eccentricity of preference that was unique to Lucius, as though no time at all had passed since their last encounter. How fitting it was that they find each other again here; in the self same bed that they had first made love in the day after they were wed. They had spent their wedding night collapsed from exhaustion in each others' arms after having been called away to an audience with the Dark Lord. And the next evening, after their arrival in St. Petersburg, Narcissa had been positively giddy with expectation. She remembered distinctly how she had felt that night; nervous and timid as any young virgin bride, and wishing so to please this man she loved. So much had changed since then, and yet Narcissa felt much the same longing now as she had that day. She wanted nothing more in this moment than to please him fully. She wanted to let her body tell him in ways that her words never could how glad she was for this second chance they were giving to each other.

As she felt the telltale shudders of his orgasm overtake him, Narcissa did not even bother to attempt to stifle the tear that she felt beginning to eke out of her eye and onto her cheek. She pulled him to her, allowing his trembling body to collapse, his full weight resting upon her. Narcissa laced her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair and kissed the top of his head intermittently as they both lay still to try to catch their breath.

After a few moments' pause, Lucius rolled over onto his back, encouraging her with his arms to stay close to him. Narcissa never let go of him, she scooted herself nearer to his side of the bed and rested her forehead against his chest. His right arm was beneath her, and he bent his elbow to run his fingers through her very unruly hair. Narcissa sighed happily and closed her eyes. She was tired, she realized; and she was more than happy to curl up next to him beneath the covers and rest for a moment.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Everybody happier now? I know the Malfoys are! EEK!! I must share that it's an interesting feeling being on an aircraft in the 1st class cabin, surrounded by business travelers working on spreadsheets and power point presentations, all the while writing Potterverse smut. I feel like I've just gotten away with something –evilgrin-.

Please let me know if I wrote the hot parts hot enough. This is my first attempt at not 'cutting away' so to speak when things get sexy. Writing more now- maybe another chapter tonight, maybe even 2 more- let's see how long my battery holds out.


	16. Falling In Love Again

Narcissa opened her drowsy eyes to a smiling Lucius lying beside her. Yawning, she stretched a little and then smiled back at him. "Did I fall asleep?" she asked sheepishly. Lucius nodded.

"You did," he confirmed, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "And you've kept me pinned to the bed this entire time," he informed her, gesturing to his arm that remained underneath her.

"You could have woken me," she told him. Lucius smiled even more warmly at her and shook his head.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied.

"I hope I wasn't out too long," she said to him, looking out the window at the setting sun. She'd had no idea of the passage of time today, but she was sure enough that they had left for their boat trip quite early in the morning and that now it was getting on to evening. "And I hope you were able to keep yourself entertained," she added, grinning.

"I was watching you sleep," he said.

"That couldn't possibly have been entertaining," she countered. Lucius chuckled and pulled her to him.

"You'd be surprised," he said, running his fingers along the length of her back.

"I could accuse you of being easily amused," she kidded. Lucius chuckled; Narcissa could feel the rumble of his laughter in his chest as she held herself to him.

"I'll deny everything," he teased back, squeezing her a little tighter. Narcissa reached up and threaded her arms around her husband's neck, relaxing into him as she did. She bit her lip and sighed heavily; there was something weighing on her, and as much as she hated the idea of spoiling what might be a perfect moment with her questioning, she knew that she had to know the answer. In fact, she knew that if the answer was what she feared it might be, then this was not at all the perfect moment she wanted it to be.

"How…" She began her question softly and tentatively, tilting her chin onto his chest so that he could meet her eyes if he chose. "How are you feeling?" she finally managed to ask. Narcissa held her breath in hopes that his answer wouldn't be 'guilty' or 'sorry'.

Narcissa had no idea at what point in her life she had become so insecure, but she knew in this moment that her fear of her husband's rejection was real and troubling. It wasn't as though he had any doubts as to whether or not he had enjoyed himself with her this afternoon; it was just that now, after a few hours' distance and some quiet time to think it over, he could be regretting what had happened between them. Narcissa needed to hear him say that he had no such feelings and that he was as pleased as she was at today's developments.

"Never been better," he answered her, bending to kiss her forehead. She let out the breath she had been holding and smiled broadly. "But I should be asking you that," he reminded her. "You're the one who's had a rough day." He shifted her in his arms to where he could prop himself up by his elbow and look directly at her. "So tell me, love," he posed; "how do you feel?" Narcissa shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not cold anymore," she told him truthfully. "Other than that…" She thought for a second, trying her best to find the correct words to tell him that she, too had no feelings of regret over what had just occurred. "Elated," she said, furrowing her brow to try and come up with more. "Complete," she added. "In love. I feel everything I have ever felt and everything I have missed feeling and everything I ever want to feel again." She rolled over onto her back and reached for his hand. "If I had known what the result was going to be, I'd have near drowned or frozen to death years ago," she commented.

Lucius sat bolt upright in the bed, letting go of her hand in the process, and looked at her with an expression that she found most unsavory. His face at the moment reminded her of all of the disapproving looks he had given her over the years of their estrangement. "Do not even joke about such things, Narcissa," he said to her, his tone as cold as his face at the moment.

"Lucius," she countered, half-exasperated. "You know I was only kidding. And I…"

"You almost died, Narcissa," he reminded her. "Just a few hours ago I pulled your limp and cold body from an icy river and had to curse you in order to get you to breathe. I would not wish a moment so horrible as that on even my worst enemy and I will not have you making light of it."

"I'm sorry," she said to him softly. Narcissa could feel herself retreating from the conversation. She rolled onto her opposite side, pulling the covers up around her chin and closing her eyes. She had no idea what was to happen next. Perhaps Lucius would get up and go out; that had been his regular practice when they had quarreled in the past.

To her surprise, a moment later Narcissa felt Lucius' hands beneath her and his arms pulling her in to his lap. He held her very close to him, breathing softly in her ear and running his fingers through her hair. "I love you, Narcissa," he told her. "And I do not wish a life without you. The two minutes I thought I'd lost you today were enough to remind me of that. We've had far too many close calls," he reminded her. "It is not my intention to ever need another crisis to make me appreciate what I have." Narcissa smiled pensively and leaned forward, resting her forehead against her husband's chin.

"I love you, Lucius," she said back to him. "I've never let go of that, and I must say how pleased it makes me that we've done what we set out to do."

"That we have, my pet," he agreed. "I'm proud of us," he added.

"Me too," she said back to him, grinning brightly. "Never in the world have there been two more headstrong and difficult people and yet we have managed to work together to create this blissful new chapter in the history of us." Narcissa tilted her head up and kissed him lightly on the chin.

"Ah, but you have cut to the crux of the matter, dearest," he pointed out. "There never have been two people so headstrong and proud and difficult and maddening; but that's the point. There are two of us, pet. We are just alike deep down; you and me. And so we understand each other. We belong together, Narcissa; I never forgot that… not really."

"I never stopped believing in the power of that either, Lucius," she told him. "And I know what you meant by 'not really'." She did know exactly what he meant by that. Lucius had told her more than once that he had sunk so far into self hatred that he was constantly telling himself that he didn't deserve to have her in his life; much less her love. She had managed to remind him that love, like forgiveness, is neither an entitlement nor a reward, but rather a gift to be freely given and accepted with humility and gratitude. He had again become grateful for her love, she was as sure of that as she was of her own thrill at receiving his in return and she would not bring up the ugly subject of his dark period again; at least she would not bring it up in bed. "We do belong together," she repeated. "And it may never be as easy as it once was, but I am in this to make you happy for the rest of my life." Lucius smiled down at her and cupped her face with his hand.

"I'd rather it be for the rest of my life," he said to her.

"I'll do my best," she promised, resettling herself in his lap so that she could lean against his chest. "Would you do something for me, Lucius?" she asked.

"You know I would," he assured her, moving his arms to squeeze her around her waist.

"Would you take me home tomorrow?" she asked. It had occurred to Narcissa some time between their lovemaking and her falling asleep that she wondered whether or not the magic of this place would follow them after they'd left here. She so wanted to believe that it would, and part of her did believe it. Now it was time to go home and see just how complete their beautiful reconciliation truly was.

"I'll take you anywhere in the world you want to go," he offered her. Narcissa shook her head and sighed.

"Just home," she told him. "I want us to go back to England. I want you to make love to me in our bed. I want to walk through the garden where we were married. I want to go back to our own house and to remember all of the wonderful things that have happened to us there and to make new wonderful memories to supplant the past several years of our combined stupidity. I want to get on with the life that we set out to have."

"Then I shall have you back in our own bed by this time tomorrow," he assured her, sliding back under the covers so that she was lying on top of him. Narcissa shifted herself to face him and cushioned her chin with her hands on his chest.

"And I'd like to have the Solstice Ball this year," she added. It was a bold move on her part; that party had been cancelled in the year that Lucius was being put on trial for being a Death Eater and it, along with several other parties that had been historically hosted by suspected Death Eaters and their families, had remained cancelled ever since.

"You would?" Lucius asked her. Narcissa wondered if her request would sour his mood, so she quickly jumped in to continue her thought.

"We have started attending others' parties this year, and so it is only correct that we begin to host our own as well. And it's Draco's first year in Slytherin, so we can invite all of our old friends who have children in school with him and it won't seem the least bit odd, and you're on the Board of Governors now so there are all of those folks at the Ministry who we can invite and…well… you have said that you're concerned for Draco's social status as he gets older, so…."

"Narcissa," Lucius interrupted her. She looked up at him and bit her lip. She had begun to become aware of the fact that she was rambling, and she was a tiny bit glad that Lucius had stopped her when he did.

"Sorry," she said to him, crinkling her nose and burying her face in the muscles of his chest.

"You may have your party, my pet," he allowed. "Tell me what you'll need from me and I shall provide it."

"Oh, Lucius, I doubt I'll need you to do anything at all," she told him. "I mean perhaps you could help me make the selections for the menu and the…."

"Cissa," he stopped her rambling again. "Don't tell me now," he instructed. Narcissa shook her head and rolled off of him and back onto her side of the bed. Lucius followed her and lay on his side, his face hovering over hers. "Now," he told her; "your lips have other priorities."

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Here's the other piece for tonight. It was written in the sky between Minneapolis and New Orleans and in my mother's house in Pensacola! I'm at mom's right now and about to go to sleep… more story (last chapter) should be tomorrow. Thanks for every review and all of the kind words about my upcoming wedding.

Please keep 'em coming

-MQ


	17. Epilogue

Draco could tell that something was different almost as soon as he had stepped off the train that Christmas. His father met him at the station with a smile and a handshake; a pair of things that the two of them had very rarely exchanged. He had dispatched Dobby presently with the trunks and was still smiling as they set out for Wiltshire.

Lucius had even asked about how exams had gone, and had regaled Draco with tales of a party that the Malfoys had hosted just two nights ago on the Winter Solstice. As far as Draco knew, they had never thrown a party before; he had often wondered why they even had a ballroom at all.

And Draco was certain that something was off when his father had issued instructions to him to 'run and hug' his mother the instant the coach pulled up to the front of the house. As they pulled past the gatehouse and down the drive, Lucius had drawn the shades on the coach and peeked behind him to see the manor as it came in to view. The sun was setting, and all that was really visible as they approached were the lighted windows of the four story mansion. Draco had no idea what his father was looking at it for.

When the coach rolled to a stop, Draco did just as he had been told, pushing open the door to the coach and bounding across the shoveled gravel walk toward the front of the house. The massive oak front door of the manor swung open, revealing his smiling mother in the doorway. Draco dashed up and hugged her around her waist; Narcissa wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged back tightly. "Hello Draco darling," she greeted him. "I've missed you," she added.

"I've missed you too, mum," he replied. He really had missed his mother; that wasn't even a stretch. She had always been a safe and helpful presence to him, and having to be on his own at school for the past four months had served to make him appreciate her more. Lucius had gotten out of the coach and joined them in the entry hall.

"I told you I could bring him home on my own," he joked with his wife. Joked? Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy did not joke with each other.

"Darling, your ability to fetch your son off the train was never in question," she answered him, turning her face to Lucius so that he could kiss her cheek. Had his mother just called his father 'darling'? And had his father just _kissed_ his mother? This was all too strange.

"Mum," Draco said to her, turning on his most charming smile. "May I go out and ride my broomstick?" Narcissa frowned down at her son.

"Not until I've gotten a proper meal into you," she answered. "Look at you," she added, taking him by his shoulders and standing back at arm's length from him. "Do they even feed you at that wretched school?" she asked. Again, she was joking. The degree of jocularity in the room was most unusual, and Draco was afraid to try and begin to get used to it lest it expire whilst his guard was down.

"They feed me fine, mum," he answered in all seriousness. "Just for a few minutes?" Narcissa shook her head.

"Come on, pet," Lucius encouraged her. Pet? Too weird. "Dinner won't be for at least an hour," he commented. "I can take him out back for a few minutes," Lucius offered. Narcissa tilted her head to the side and chuckled softly.

"You talk as though you're going out at all," she countered. "You've still got cold and I'll not have you out in the December air catching you r death." Draco braced himself for Lucius to get angry. He thought to remove himself from between his parents so as not to be in the way of the argument that he was certain was about to ensue. But none did. He looked up at his father, who was regarding his mother with a wry smile and had his arms crossed over his chest.

"Please mum?" Draco asked one final time. Since when could he not charm his mother in to letting him do whatever he wanted?

"Come on, Cissa, let the boy go outside," Lucius encouraged her. Narcissa laughed softly again and shook her head. Keeping one hand on Draco's shoulder, and reaching her other to touch her husband's sleeve, she rolled her eyes at one and then the other.

"You're both adorably pitiful," she drawled, "but it's not going to work. I've lived with the both of you for far too long to still be susceptible to those pretty gray eyes." She bent down and kissed the top of Draco's head and then stretched to kiss Lucius' cheek. How much kissing was there going to have to be this holiday? "Now get upstairs and get dressed for dinner," she instructed. "You too," she addressed to Lucius. "I'll get the kitchen to hurry things up so that we can eat. After dinner, Draco, you can go out and ride your broomstick for an hour as long as you promise to wear your mittens and your muffler. And you sir," she turned to Lucius again, "can watch him from the conservatory windows with me and a glass of brandy." She let go of both of them and shooed them up the stairs. "Now get on with you both," she instructed.

"Yes mother," Draco answered, making sure that his disappointment was clear in his voice.

"Yes dearest," Lucius echoed Draco's tone with his own and then placed his hand on his son's shoulder and led him toward the stairs. The two of them reached the top of the grand staircase and took a sharp left toward the stairs that would take them to the private level of the residence. "Draco," his father stopped and turned to face him. "I completely forgot," he commented, half to himself by Draco's guess. "You'll have to use the back staircase from now on," Lucius explained. "We've had the door sealed."

"The door from my wing of the house to yours?" he asked. All of the family's rooms were on the third level of the manor and the children's wing was connected with the master wing of the house by a single corridor. Apparently the passage between the two wings had been closed off.

"Yes, Draco," his father answered. "We thought you were old enough to have rooms to yourself without your parents intruding unannounced." 'We' thought? Draco had no real idea when it was that his parents had started making decisions together and he had no idea at all when they had started getting along. But he certainly didn't mind the idea of having his wing shut off from his parents'. Draco nodded his head and shrugged, turning to head the opposite way down the hall to the back stairs, which were around the corner from the main library. "Cissa love," he heard Lucius call from the mezzanine down in to the entry hall. "Are you coming?" he asked. Cissa? Love? This was just the strangest day ever.

"I'll be up in a minute darling," she called back to him. 'Darling'. "I've got to go and check on the kitchen first."

"Alright," Lucius called back before walking the remaining few feet to the small staircase and heading up to their rooms.

As he went toward the stairs to get to his own wing of the house, Draco silently wondered if perhaps his parents had been bewitched by something or someone. They had rarely been civil to each other for so long in his memory and they had never _never_ been actively nice to each other. Although he had some degree of confidence that neither of his parents was weak enough to actually have been successfully bewitched, it was still the most bizarre display on record.

He started up the stairs still wondering about his parents. By the time he reached the top of the stairs and begun down the hall to his bedroom he had decided that his best course of action was to just relax and let himself enjoy the peace. How many times as a small child had he wished that he could spend time with both of his parents at once without feeling as though one or the other was about to break down or get angry? As long as his parents were seeming to get along, he would let himself enjoy it.

He liked it better this way.

-FIN

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YAY!! All better now. See, I told you it would all be ok in the end. Glad you stuck around and THANKS for all of the lovely reviews. I can't believe that my wedding is in 5 days!!! I will be around reading reviews for the rest of the week, and I have 2 one-shots in my head that will likely get some action this week while I am escaping wedding stress. CHEERS!

-MQ


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